


Beware the Superman

by DDElliott



Category: All Superheroes Must Die (2011), H.G.Wells, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works, Psychological thriller - Fandom, anti heroe
Genre: Evil Superman, Other, Superman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 08:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DDElliott/pseuds/DDElliott
Summary: A mysterious child, uneasy parents, abnormal relationships and too many deaths. Beware the child who walks ahead of others and leave a wake of death and destruction behind.
Relationships: Friendship - Relationship





	Beware the Superman

“Fear the super man” … Epilogue: The year is 1928 somewhere in the plains states and the country was severely divided. The stock market had overextended its credit markers and a tidal wave of slush funds and insider trading had pushed the needle deep into the red. Stocks crashed in seconds leaving millionaires and captains of industry penniless. While some men struggled to keep it together, others lost everything including their minds and more than a few men jumped from office buildings in desperation, ending in death. Those left behind to pick up the pieces were living in the worst financial “Depression” that the western world had ever experienced. Capitalism itself was on trial and at risk of collapse. Meanwhile in the center of the country where wide open plains stretched beyond sight covered in wheat, corn and various other staples of America’s diet, the land had finally given up as well and years of over-cultivation had transformed several million acres into what became known as “A dust-bowl”.

On the outskirts of a small town that was quickly shrinking, Casius Mortimer was driving from his home to a piece of land he owned. With his four children riding in back of the truck and he and his wife up front they found their way to what towns people were beginning to call Mortimer’s Quarry. Limestone and a large deposit of granite were being mined by the Petermon Mining Company of Chicago Illinois, making Mr. Mortimer and his family well to do and immune to the economic blight that had gripped most of his peers. 

As Casius exits his pick-up he is met by the foreman of the mining operation at work on his property. “Mr.Mortimer! Good to see you.” The men exchange handshakes and Casius follows Ken into the min shaft. “I’m afraid we’ve hit a snag.” Pointing to a large object blocking the way he hollers above the machinery noise. “We don’t know what it is but every attempt to break it up has met failure!” Casius looks the smooth white surface over and taps it with the point of his pen knife. “It’s solid! Probably some kind of mineral deposit or something!” The men leave the cave and take shelter under a tent nearby. While they discuss their options for either removing or breaking up the object in their way, Mr. Mortimer’s two youngest boys and baby sister climb out of the truck bed and chase each other around the worksite. Soon Casius tells the pit boss goodbye after promising to return the next day and decide what needs done. When the man returns to his truck he finds the girl and two boys missing and walks around the site calling their names to no avail. In desperation he turns to Ken. “Have you or your men seen my kids? Two of them about four and five years old and the girl is three?!” Ken shakes his head and then motions to the men operating the crane who jump down and walk over. “Hey, did you guys see some kids around here?” Each of them says no but admit they weren’t exactly paying attention. Soon the entire camp is busy searching for the missing children until suddenly someone yells and points! “Hey, over there!” Sure enough the kids are safe and standing at the entrance to the mine. Casius hollers all the way across the camp to the mines entrance and collects his three fugitives and takes the family home. In the back of the truck the children laugh and play except for young Mathew who looks suspiciously at his brother Harlan. Once home the man interrogates the two boys while they all sit around the table eating dinner. “So where did you two get off to?” Neither of the boys answered but they seldom did when they knew that they were in trouble. After young Matt asks to be excused to use the bathroom, Harlan placed something on the table and looked at his father who reached over and picked it up. Immediately after touching the crystalline object the man’s head began to ring until it felt like his skull was going to split open. In a few seconds each of the family members present were lying on the floor around the dinner table, unconscious, except for Harlan and his little sister Emily. They sit at the table looking over the others and then at each other. Harlan speaks to his little sister. “They can’t handle the radiation like we can, they weren’t born with our tolerance to it, it was too much for them.” Then they turn their attention to the doorway where Matt stands looking down at his family. Harlan leaves the table and advances toward Matt, who is trembling. It’s ok, you’re safe.” He turns looking at the family spread out on the dining room floor. “They got sick.” A frightened little Mathew Mortimer turns and runs out the front door and down the long lane to where the men are working in the quarry looking for help. But what he finds chills him to his bones. Lying motionless on the ground, all over the site were men who up until a few hours ago were vibrant and healthy but now lie dead! Not a soul is left! The boy hears a noise and searches for some sign of life but is stunned to find the boy he used to call Harlan, his little brother, standing at the mouth of the cave. “Who are you?!” the boy screams! The boy within Harlan speaks with a voice more like that of an adult than a child. “It was an accident, we needed host bodies to contain our essence and your brother and sisters bodies were strong and healthy.” Mathew was confused by the boys words and didn’t understand the full implication. “Why did you come here?” Again the imposter spoke. “We were transferred here by the crystals.” Half compelled by fear and half by anger, Matt rushes the imposter and pushes him into the cave! He thrusts himself so hard that he almost fell down into the pit as well. But he was able to catch himself and stop in time. The imposter wasn’t so fortunate and fell headlong into the blackness below. Mathew watched and waited but nothing stirred below and so he left. In the week that followed, the local authorities with assistance from medical professionals on loan from the Army, buried the bodies of the workmen and then those of the Mortimer family. The last thing to be done was sealing off the cave and erecting a fence around the site to prevent anyone else from stumbling into the horrible and dangerous place. Mathew went to live with his aunt Lizzy who lived in town and it was decided that his little sister who had also survived, would go and live with another aunt and her husband in Wyoming. In time all of the pain and tragedy would fade leaving nothing but a rusty old fence and a grove of weeds, trees and a small lake. But unknown to those living nearby, the Army keeps a low key eye on the area. U2 spy planes are routinely dispatched in regular interval for years after, in order to photograph and catalogue the site until the modern age of communication satellites makes the planes obsolete. Now the site is off limits and protected property of the U.S. Government and is watched twenty four hours a day up till the mid-eighties when Regan’s budget cuts and Star Wars Anti- nuclear program is initiated. Soon sites like Mortimer’s quarry are lost in piles of outdated paperwork and funding dries up. 

Uber mensch die bedrohung

Chapter One: Stranger Still

An old thermometer hangs from one of the weather worn wooden posts that suspend the roof over the front porch. The mercury reaches only to a small line just below the number 50. Its daybreak but the sun is obscured by a dense blanket of cumulonimbus clouds. Odd rays of light peak through the sky but aren’t strong enough to warm the ground. Fall in the Midwest comes fast and quickly turns to winter. Chilling winds and frozen earth grasp everything and frost forms on anything unable to move. A rooster calls out to announce a new day has begun while a young blonde haired boy only half dressed stumbles down the farm house stairs and heads for the kitchen. His boots are on his feet but completely untied and threaten to trip the child. His jeans are held up by a tan leather belt that was obviously intended for someone older and larger than the slender nine year old. Wearing a red t-shirt he wrestles with his blue plaid button down slung over his shoulders. He enters the modest kitchen with footwear dragging from his heels as a middle aged woman turns from the stove and scoops a ladle of whole oats into a bowl on the table next to a jug of whole milk and a full sugar bowl. Her attention is caught by the sight of the scattered laces swirling around on the linoleum beneath the boy. “Oh, for goodness sake!”

The small boy plops himself carelessly onto an empty chair at the table and reaches for the milk. “Hold on there, Charlie Brown!” says the woman. She takes hold of the back of his wooden chair and spins him around to face her. “What have you been told about wearin your boots in the house?” She looks down at the blank expression on his face and waits. An odd silence gives way to the words delivered by the lad in a sing song kind of way. “No boots in the house, leave em outside on the porch.” The woman, somewhere in her late-forties, tries to maintain a stern and imposing posture for the boys sake but her shifting eyes give away the difficulty she is having when her gaze meets that of the man seated across from her reading the paper. He kept his face buried behind the periodical seemingly ignoring them both but the boy knew better. “I need to have my socks and shoes on just in case.” Says the boy bluntly. Kate returns to the stove and just out of earshot as then man leans in toward the boy and makes eye contact of the most malevolent kind. “Watch your mouth boy.” Then without warning the boy raises his right arm just as John begins to raise his left in order to strike the boy! The man looks perplexed as if to ask, “How did he know?” But somehow the boy always knows when something is about to happen to him. Neither of his parents had ever been able to surprise the boy, not on his special day or ever. For that matter neither of them could remember a time where he was caught off guard. To their consternation, he was always one or two steps ahead of them at all times and John finds it unnerving. 

John wasn’t much for superstition but he had learned to expect the small boy to be far more aware than most children. Adults who spent any time around the boy commonly commented on his potential. For all his innocence and wide eyed wonder, the little guy was far more advanced than anyone his age when it came to personal awareness and a mature comprehension of himself. The boy was what some might consider confident but without arrogance. “He’s just a kid.” John thought to himself but somewhere deep inside he knew there was something odd about the child. It was in those moments when he was angry with the kid that he could see something in the small boy’s eyes, like a dark storm brewing.

Kate finished serving up breakfast and began clearing away the dirty dishes while John finished the last sip of his coffee and folded his paper up and toss it in a cardboard box on the floor next to the trashcan as he did every morning. He rises from his seat leaving his empty bowl and cup to sit and wait for his wife or son to carry them to the sink and drops them into the fresh dishwater. He gives his wife a tender kiss on her cheek and turns on his heels to go to work while Kate tends to her chores. The boy watches inquisitively at the affectionate interaction between his parents with the flat affect that seemed to cross his face every time they displayed any kind of intimacy in his presence. His eyes followed his father out the door and across the driveway to his truck and then all the way down the lane. That in itself would have raised a common man’s eyebrow for the simple fact that their lane was near a mile in length and passed a grove of tall pines making it next to impossible to see the end before meeting the main road that stretch into town with a right turn, which is exactly what his father did every day at this time. The boy watched his father headed for town but quickly lost interest and turned his attention to his mother who was finishing up her work. She stood at the kitchen counter, back turned to him while he watched her assemble a pb&j sandwich which was his favorite as long as she used the strawberry jam he liked and not the peach marmalade his dad preferred. He watched her stuff it into a small brown bag followed by an apple and what appeared to be a cookie. His eyes focused a second and then homed in on the sweet for closer inspection. He frowned. He could see raisins in the cookie. He could count nine of the tiny shriveled things inhabiting the cooked dough. “I’ll have to trade that with Jimmy or Curt at lunch today.” He thought to himself. Kate turned and sat the paper bag on the table in front of him. “Well, the bus’ll be here any minute, you best be putting your coat on and headin for the bus stop.” He liked the way his mother gave him her attention and it made him feel wanted. It almost made up for the time a few years ago when he was playing in the dirt behind the house and Kate called him in for lunch. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he procrastinated and Kate’s patience ran out. She had spent the morning working on the bills and became quite frustrated that it had taken so long which cut short her opportunity to pack up Tommy’s summer clothes and put his winter wardrobe in his closet and dresser. She had a small pile of shorts and t-shirts stacked neatly in a small suitcase in which she planned to store the clothes in the attic until next summer. Tommy hadn’t shown himself yet and her temper reached a boiling point and in her frustration and lack of control, when the boy did arrive into the house she began yelling at him and deriding him for making her wait! Her words shot forth and stung Tommy as he struggled to understand the reason for her rage. “You think you can ignore me? After everything I do for you? I cook and clean and you can’t even do as you’re told. I’m done, I’ve had it! If you won’t listen to me then you aren’t welcome here anymore!” She shoved the five year old out of the front door onto the porch and handed him the small suitcase full of summer clothes. “Here these are your things, take them and find someplace else to live.” Tears ran down the boys cheeks and his words became muffled with his sobbing as he pleaded with his mother “please don’t kick me out, I’m sorry, I will listen from now on! I swear I’ll be a good boy! Mommy I’ll be a good boy, I’ll listen!” But she slammed the door and left him standing in his front yard, the cool breeze of fall whipping the autumn leaves across the yard. Tommy walked for what felt to him like hours but if fact was no more than a few minutes until he found a crawlspace under the barn which he had made a cabin for himself to hide when playing with his friends. Eventually after an hour or so, John had come home for work and asked about the boy. His wife’s face turned pale as she suddenly remembered the boy and that she had totally lost track of the time or of where he had gotten off to. Minutes went by like hours as Kate ran around outside and then back into the house, from room to room looking for Tommy! John searched the barn and eventually noticed a board out of place in the floor near the grain chute and found Tommy shivering underneath. But that was back before Tommy regained his full memory and realized who he was and what he was capable of. That’s when things began to change.

Katey stepped around the table and knelt down beside her son. She cautiously placed a loving hand on his. She was pleased when he didn’t pull his hand away as usual. It pleased her and her eyes almost teared up but she fought the urge and kept her composure. She didn’t want to mess this moment up. A few seconds passed before he snapped to attention and slid off his chair. His mind had switched from her to something else suddenly but of what she had no idea until a minute later a school bus pulled up in the lane and the horn sounded to alert those in the house to its arrival. But it struck her odd that her son’s actions almost seemed to be in response to the vehicle even before it had come close enough to be visible, let alone heard. She shrugged off the queer feeling and went back to seeing the boy off for the day. Coat and hat on, the small boy grabbed his lunch and waited at the front door for his mom to give him her customary hug before sending him outside. The woman watched her child board the school bus and take a seat before the engine roared and pulled away.   
Riding the bus to school is just one of the many micro-cosm’ within the childhood experience fraught with its own dangers and consequences. Most adults have blocked out or forgotten memories of sitting among a dozen or so other children with varying ages on the way to and from school every day. To an adult it may seem silly or irrelevant but to a small child it can be nothing short of terrifying. The school bus is no different than the classroom or school-yard or any other situation when a bunch of kids are all congregated into a group in which all of the personality differences begin to show themselves and all under the supervision of a disinterested adult. The leader emerges as does the clown or the timid and shy. Most dreaded is the bully and possible followers that always take advantage of any situation where they can impose their influence and will through intimidation and fear. The dynamic is no different than watching a nature video of a pack of dogs zeroing in on a weak or lame lesser animal. In no time the chase begins and the prey either runs or gives up and the vicious feeding begins. Enter the boy with the plaid shirt, red jacket and baseball cap. The moment he stepped onto the bus he is met with the apathetic expressions of the other children seated on both sides of him. To his left sat the tanner boy, Justin. Then to the right sitting together hovering over some sort of toy were the Baskin twins Terence and Todd. Jeanie sat behind them next to her best friend Jessica Winters, who everyone called Windy for some odd reason, he wasn’t sure why. Facing a deluge eyes staring back at him, he presses forward down the long aisle and scans each row for an empty seat all the while aware that he is getting dangerously closer and closer to the back row. The back row represents two distinct problems to any kid unfortunate enough to find himself there. First, by reaching the back row you have already exhausted all other options and it’s obvious that there is no going back. All the other seats are taken. Two, the last row is always where the older boys, bigger and meaner than the rest, take up residence in order to be as far from the driver and any kind of authority as possible. This creates the perfect opportunity for the jackals to hone in on their prey for the day and the bullying and harassment begins. 

The small boy spies the only seat not taken in the very last row to his right. To get to it he must first pass an eighth grader he knows as Michael Donnovan who sits nearest the aisle. When their eyes meet neither boy says a word at first. Then in an unprecedented move, totally foreign to his nature and to the confused gasps of the other children watching, Michael stands up and allows the smaller boy to take a seat next to the window and then returns to his place. It always amazed the other kids on the bus when Tommy boarded and took his seat with the big kids. As amazing as the sequence was to those watching, everyone quickly swung back into their places with eyes straight ahead when Michael made eye contact with a particular seventh grader sitting directly in front him who was turned around in his seat. “What are you lookin at?!” The elder boy snapped! Fearful of becoming the next victim chosen for doom, the boy flipped himself around and sat motionless to avoid any further interaction with the boy known to everybody in town as “that delinquent”. After a few minutes when everyone had calmed down and returned to thinking about what awaited them once they reached their destination, the small boy who had created all the drama sat looking dreamily out the window as miles of mowed corn fields raced passed the bus. Michael slouched down on his side of the bench seat and rested quietly with his eyes shut. No one on the bus including the driver noticed when one of old man Kerry’s Holstein milk cows busted through the fence running alongside the dirt road and dashed out in front of the bus! Startled, the driver instinctively swerved to avoid hitting the bovine but in doing so sent the bus skidding sideways off of the roadway and into a drainage ditch filled to capacity from the previous day’s downpour. With the speed and force of such a heavy vehicle slamming into the storm drain, the bus was suddenly flung onto its side and began filling with icy water. The driver was ejected from his seat and through the side window leaving eighteen kids inside. From the instant they came to a sudden stop, children were flung all over the inside of the bus and many of them were battered and bruised. Fortunately as the frigid waters poured in through the windows, children began climbing out the windows on the opposite side of the bus which were now above them where the roof normally was. One by one they helped each other through the narrow windows until everyone was shivering safely on top of the partially submerged vehicle. At least it seemed like everyone. However, in all of the commotion and panic, no one had noticed that Michael and his bench partner were absent.  
At the moment just before the cow broke loose of the fence, the small boy who sat staring out of the window had actually seen the danger. In the blink of an eye, between the cow breaking loose and the bus was thrust sideways into a spin, the young boy turned and reached his small arm out to catch a slumbering Donnovan boy from being launched into the air. At the time when the children realized what had happened and began to scramble to safety, the young farm boy looked for a way out but found his window locked and his unconscious partner going under. As the oldest girl on the bus, Christina Herrold kept everyone on top of the bus calm and began taking a head count until she remembered Michael and the little boy next to him. She and the other children began calling out! “Michael”!? “Michael!?”……..“Tommy!?” Then out of the terrible silence came “Here.” they all heard a voice from behind them say! All the children turned to find a groggy Michael Donnovan and a wide awake Tommy Rensel lying on the bank parallel to the submerged bus, steam rising into the sky from their wet bodies.

In the days and weeks that followed the unfortunate incident, State Police, the local Sherriff’s office as well as school board members and a persistent reporter from a small TV station based out of the city nearly an hour away, all wanted to shower the small boy with questions and they would have if it hadn’t been for his protective mother and father who kept the boy within the confines of the family farm. Only Bobby Troup, the local Sherriff was invited to do his due diligence on the Rensel property and only because he and John had known each other since grade school. Bob sat with the boy with both parents present and asked a few questions until he was satisfied from Tommy’s nondescript answers proved that he was too young to understand what happened in all of the excitement. Standing up from his chair at the kitchen table, the Sherriff looked at both John and Kate, “Well, I guess that’s enough for today.” Looking back down at the wide eyed little boy he smiled. “You’ve been a big help little man, thank you.” Tommy just sat with a blank expression holding his favorite toy tractor in his lap. John walked bob to the front door. “Whatta you think happened, Bob?” The Sherriff stood with both hands resting on the sides of his belt. “To be honest I think it’s just the ramblings of a bunch of scared kids. We’re just lucky they all made it out alive.” The two old friends shook hands and said goodbye. John rejoined his wife and son back in the kitchen where dinner was on the table waiting. John made eye contact with Kate at first and then both of them turned their attention to the boy who was dishing out a scoop of mashed potatoes onto his plate. Noticing the silence and sensing the stares of his mom and dad, Tommy’s eyes roamed back and forth between them anticipating some kind of interrogation but to his surprise neither spoke a word through the rest of dinner.

Once the meal was over and dishes done John retired to the living room to watch the news while Kate sat quietly trying to repair the ripped pair of jeans Tommy had been wearing when the bus accident took place. “And I just bought these Levi’s.” Katey holds up the pants to look them over more closely. In the turmoil of being submerged in ditch water and dragged through a jagged broken window, “the pants had held together pretty well considering.” She said to herself out loud. She flipped the jeans inside-out and commenced sewing the rather large tear down the length of the right leg. She cursed her failing eyesight while attempting to thread her needle resulting in her pricking her finger when John finally spoke. Startled she looked up as he began. “You and I both know that somethin aint right, hasn’t been for a long time around here.” Before he could say another word Kate cut him off! Don’t you say it Johnathan!” But he did say it. “For seven years!” Kate was a respectful woman and rarely spoke harshly to her husband but he had crossed the line, her line. She jumped up from her seat like a flash of light and got within inches of John's left ear! Softly but with stern demeanor she spoke in a whisper. “Don’t say things like that, you know how sensitive he is.” “Sensitive!?” John spit out with shocked exasperation! “You know as well as I do, that boy hasn’t shown a single emotion in all the time he’s been here!” “He never laughs, never cries, won’t smile no matter how many times I’ve told him.” Kates maternal instincts take over as she shot back, in a whisper. “He’s just a little boy John!” John calmed down but still gave a rebuttal. “Katey, you know I love you and I know how much having him here is important to you. He placed his hands on her upper arms and held her gently but firm. “He’s not our son. If he was, we would have given him a family name, named him after your dad, Elijah remember?” ”But it wasn’t meant to be, so we chose the name Tommy.” The words were absolutely true but they still cut her deeply. Her heart ached as she held back the tears and dropped her head in defeat as her chin quivered in restrained agony and she whispers.… “I know.” 

John held her tightly in his arms and tried to comfort her while she sobbed like an injured soul. Both husband and wife consoled each other, her for the pain that comes to a woman unable to have her own child and him for the anger of not being able to give his wife what she wants most in the world. Both totally unaware that they were in fact not alone. Quietly perched at the top of the stairs sat the little boy, wearing the pajamas that his mother had made for him. He could clearly hear the thumping of her heartbeat and sound of teardrops that trickled down her cheeks and dropped to the bare hardwood below. But as he sat there listening, not a single emotion shown in his face. His stern expression displayed no heartbreak or pain, no emotion at all registered in his eyes and not a single tear fell. He was well aware that he didn’t belong here. This was not his home, he was a visitor or guest, and this was not his family. In all of the time he had grown up in this house, and all of the times he was told that they love him, he was unable to show it in return. Her inability to reach the boy on a deeper level confounded and grieved Kate. John had no intimate connection with him either, satisfied with nothing more than his presence while working around the house or outside in the barn. Sadly John and Kate had no knowledge of the boy’s true origins or what had shaped his tiny mind. Physically he seemed typical of any other young, nine year old boy to the naked eye but then he hadn’t been subjected to any kind of scrutiny. No trained psychologist or physician had been afforded the opportunity to examine the boy as far as anyone was aware. The details of how he came to live with the couple were sketchy at best. Practically everyone who knew the family had a vague idea of how the boy had come to this place and his guardians but no one had ever taken the time to compare the stories in an effort to piece together a coherent timeline and thankfully so as far as John and Kate were concerned. As best as anybody could guess was that Tommy was probably Kates sisters boy come to live with them due to some family drama or other. Not even the boy knew for sure where he had come from and how he had arrived there, or so his parents had thought.

Unwilling and cautiously pragmatic, John never brought the subject up and Kate chose to live in denial as well. Life went on for a few days after the bus incident and things gradually got back to normal for most folk in the area. The Rensel’s returned to their day to day routines and all was forgotten for a while. John went about his day consumed by his job just as Kate immersed herself in her housework and caregiving to some of the elderly neighbors who required more assistance than their adult families were able to handle. She had been a part time home health aide for nearly four years and had built a good reputation within the community. Everyone loved Kate, there never was a bad word said about her as far as anyone knew of, at least in public. Tommy returned to school and the communal experience of social dynamics present in civilized society. In the first grade things remained relatively descent and unremarkable. It wasn’t until fourth grade and exposure to a new teacher who had just recently started working there that serious change began to take place within the biological and psychological presence that was forming inside and so Tommy’s teacher neglected to take notice of the subtle metamorphosis slowly taking place. Every day his voices timbre fluctuated ever so slightly deeper from the day before and yet no one’s ears had picked up on it. It also escaped the notice of his classmates that the boy’s eyes seemed to gloss over and then suddenly burn with malevolence.

It was Saturday morning and a few weeks had come and gone since the bus accident. Tommy gulped down his breakfast and shot out the back door before either Kate or John could ask him where he was going or when he’d be back. Fortunately for Tommy he didn’t have to make up another story to explain his whereabouts like the last time. Tommy didn’t like to lie to his guardians but the nature of his activities necessitated secrecy. Where the boy was heading was strictly off limits to children and the mere mention of it would have caused his parents to not only object but flat out forbid the boy from going anywhere near the quarry. Tommy had convincingly devised an intricate and ingenious web of half-truths, misdirection’s and skillful word play that kept Kate and John’s suspicions at bay so far but this morning he had no tongue for fabrication. He walked through the back twenty acres and across old man Baker’s farm and crossed the stream before reaching the thickly wooded area known as Mortimer’s lake. The lake was nothing more than a simple strip mine, long abandoned and left to fill with water. It had become a dumping ground for the dispossessed and delinquent machinery and odd leftovers from its former glory in the early 30’s. The small boy calmly walked up an old gravel road, nearly hidden by the thick brush and weeds that had overgrown both sides. He reached the mouth of the quarry and caught the attention of a half dozen boys twice his size and older who were sitting around a makeshift fire to the right of the main gate to the property. One of the boys, slim and athletic looking rose from his seat on a dilapidated couch and stood looking at the intruder. One by one the boys came to their feet and followed as the tallest boy made his way to intercept the interloper. Tommy walked up to the leader of the group and stopped. The tallest boy looked down and met his eyes. “You made it.” The small boy answers in turn. “Hello Michael.”

Chapter Two : School Daze

The sun has nearly set for the evening and all manner of insect climbs from their nests and burrows to great the nocturnal awakening. John watches television while Kate finishes the dishes. “Hey hon, you seen Tommy yet? I told him last time he was out late that I want him home before dark.” Kate slid a stack of freshly washed flat-wear into the cupboard above the kitchen counter. “Oh I know, I remember last week when he came in late. I was sure you were gonna let into him then but you gave him another chance!” “I can’t believe he’d push his luck again.” John got up from the couch and walked to the back door. He gazed out onto the fallow field just behind the house and across the plain all the way to the dark wooded area beyond. “No sign of him!” “No sign of who?” came a small voice from somewhere behind the man. John turned in surprise to find the boy standing right behind him. Kate came into the living-room. “Tommy, where have you been?” she asked. “I’ve been upstairs washing for dinner.” John’s brow furled and his eyes switched from Kate to Tommy suspiciously. “How’d you make it inside and up the stairs without being seen?” Tommy simply shrugged his tiny shoulders and stood blankly watching his father. “Well it doesn’t really matter anyway, go on in and set the table while I get the dishes.” Tommy wobbled into the kitchen and began laying out the silverware and napkins as he usually did while john took his seat at the table and looked over the newspaper. All three of them sit and eat quietly until John breaks the silence at last. “Where you been all day?” he asks nonchalantly as he turns the pages without looking from the type. No answer. Again John asks “where’ve you been all day?” Still no answer. Irritated, John folds his paper in half to look the boy in the eye but finds his chair empty. He looks to Kate who is looking dumbfounded at the empty chair as well. “Where’d he go?” asked his father. “I’m not sure, I didn’t even see him leave.” The sound of John’s voice grew sharper. “He knows better than to leave the table without asking permission, what’s gotten into him?” his voice pushed through gnashed teeth as he stood up and moved toward the stairs. “John wait!” Kate let slip a little louder than she had meant to. The abruptness of her words startled the man as John stopped dead in his tracks. Kate’s demeanor softened a bit. “Please don’t be angry with him, wait until tomorrow to talk to him, after you’ve had time to calm down.” The man thinks to himself a second before returning to the last few bites of his dinner.   
Meanwhile upstairs from his family, the boy lies on his bed listening to music on his clock radio. He hears his father’s voice and then that of his mother as he looks at the small cracks in the plaster that run across the ceiling of his room and imagines himself far away from this place. He daydreams about people and places that he’s never seen before. His mind wanders through a mindscape of possibilities. Eventually he can see himself standing on the edge of a tall building, all alone watching the tiny people down below scrambling about. He watches all the while thinking to himself… “They hate me…”

Evening turns to night and eventually both John and Kate retire for the night looking in on Tommy. Tommy hears their footsteps, first climbing the stairs and then down the hall until they stop just outside of his door. First the softer footsteps of the two presses forward and pushes the door open a crack to view her boy. After a second she turns and goes to her bedroom while Johns stands in the doorway watching the small boy from a distance and then turns away to join his wife. Tommy could see through his half closed eyes making out the dark figure at his door. It looked like a towering monster but Tommy felt no fear. As the hours tick by and all is silent within the house a shadow glides along upstairs and then downstairs. The boy never sleeps. John and Kate remain totally unaware that while they are dreaming each night away in their bed the small boy roams from room to room all night until daybreak. There were times that one of the adults could have sworn that they had heard a sound or caught a glimpse of movement when they had been startled awake but each time when they got up and checked on their son, he was tucked away in his bed. It would never have occurred to either of them that the boy didn’t sleep at night, not ever. A boy’s room is like his own little world, full of toys that he carelessly plays with for a time and then discards completely as puberty begins and his interests become more preoccupied with friends and then girls. But as sophisticated and Tommy could be at times, he had an almost obsessive interest in science fiction books and movies. He kept the the tiny action figures and vehicles and monsters that his parents had bought him in perfect order but he never played with them. They lined the shelves in his room meticulously standing each figure and positioned each vehicle into carefully planned out groupings. His room was the antithesis of most boy’s rooms in that his bed was perfectly made each morning and every piece of clothing neatly hung in the well-arranged closet or folded and placed in his dresser drawers, nothing out of place, no mess. In fact Kate was proud to point out to visitors that she never minded showing people around the house since she knew Tommy’s room always looked impeccable. “He keeps his room so tidy it almost looks like a hotel room.” Kate said giggling to her friend Janice. Sadly it never occurred to Kate that her expression was dead on point, she should have noticed that the boy showed no attachment to his home. In Tommy’s estimation it truly felt as though he was living in a temporary domicile like a hotel.  
It was Monday morning and to Tommy’s delight only half a school day due to teacher and parent conferences in the afternoon. He dressed quickly and ate breakfast as always but this morning was different than most others. Today Kate had errands to run and the school bus was still out of commission and so the parents had to pick up the slack of driving their children to school and picking them back up at the end of the school day. “Tommy, I’ve got business in town today so your father is going to drive you today.” The boy didn’t speak or show any feeling but inside his head throbbed and his pulse surged as his frustration grew inside him. This was not what he wanted to hear! To the boy it was the times when his father had to meet with his friends or work late that he was happiest. On occasions Tommy and Kate sat home together enjoying the peace and quiet of their house, watching movies or playing games, drawing or painting pictures that he felt happiest, safe, free from scrutiny and criticism.

Tommy sat eating his breakfast but never spoke a word while his mind raced from one scenario to another and back again while sipping his hot tea. John’s voice was little more than a mumble in the background as the boy finished his cereal and Kate leafed through a folder of paperwork. Finally after a few minutes John, sensing his words were falling on deaf ears, stopped and looked around the table. “Am I talking to myself here?” “Kate, when are you leaving?” His wife is suddenly aware that he is speaking to her and her face flushes slightly embarrassed. “Oh, John, I’m sorry hon, I was so caught up in my work for today I didn’t hear you.” John exhaled his contempt ever so slightly and then looked at his son. “You about ready to go? I’m not gonna be late cause you’re draggin your feet.” The boy looked up at the man again with the same blank stare as usual. This set the man off! He jumped up from his chair and went to the hall-tree and whipped his coat off of the stand and slipped it on. He hollered to Tommy as he walked out the door! “I’m startin the truck, get your coat and let’s go!” Tommy was dressed with shoes on, grabbed his sack lunch and coat as he headed for the front door when he heard the truck roar to life! “Once I get this truck movin it aint stopping so you better hurry!” The boy made it to the vehicle and whipped the passenger door open and then stood passively looking at his father as he zipped up his coat and then climbed into the cab next to John. The man said nothing the whole way into town and then pulled up in front of the grade school. Tommy reached for the door handle and began opening the door when he felt a firm hand grip his little arm. “From now on I want your hand on the handle ready to open the door before we come to a stop from now on, you hear me?” “No sense wasting my time, be ready to jump out before I stop.” The arbitrary nature of the request stunned Tommy for a second until his mind was able to process the man’s words. It wasn’t enough, Tommy thought to himself, that he had to get up, washed and fully dressed first thing in the morning on Saturday and Sunday which were regarded by most as free time. Now his father demanded that he be waiting and ready to spring from the truck like a paratrooper prepared to jump into enemy territory! It seemed absurd at best if not completely insane at most. 

The small boy slammed the heavy door behind him, leaving the man and his precious vehicle in the past as he ambled up the steps of the school. John slid the shifter into gear and plowed through the parking lot and back onto the road heading for work as the boy disappeared from view. As the minutes on the clock ticked onward the boy crept down the long deserted hallway and found his classroom. As he opened the closed door he could hear his teacher engaged in her usual, clumsy and uninspired diatribes. He was inside the room and closing the door behind him when Ms Parker ceased her tirade and redirected her displeasure at Tommy. “Mr. Rensel, how good of you to find time in your busy schedule to grace us with your presence.” Tommy didn’t acknowledge her sarcastic words or her uninvited focus on him at all. He simply walked to the back of the room and sat down at his desk and unloaded his back pack as if he were oblivious to her or the other students around him. This infuriated the woman responsible for maintaining discipline and control of her classroom. She saw his blatant dismissal of her and her authority as a direct threat and one she would not tolerate! “Mr. Rensel, come to the front of the class.” The children in attendance all watched quietly as the boy casually got up and walked to meet the teacher who stood like a pillar at the front of the small class room. As he approached her he didn’t lift his eyes to meet her face, not even when he was standing directly in front of her with only two feet between them. The woman looked down her nose as the child. “Well, look at me!” She ordered him abruptly! But the boy continued facing her without raising his eyes in defiance. The woman’s fury began to change all at once as the hair on her arms began to stand on end and the tiny strands on the back of her neck started to do the same. Now she didn’t feel angry, she felt fear! Then suddenly the odd tension was broken when there was a knock at the door. Confused and a bit shaky, the teacher stumbled to the door and opened it. It was Mr. Bellard, the assistant principle and a police deputy. Ms Parker spoke with the two men for a few seconds and the woman turned to look at Tommy. “Tommy, you need to accompany these gentlemen to the office.” Tommy knew the vice principle by sight but hadn’t ever spoke with the man. The deputy though he knew personally from barbecue’s hosted by his parents and attended by the sheriff and his two deputies, Carl and Jeff. They were like uncles to the boy since his dad had grown up with both men and remained close over the years. It was Carl who walked with him to the office, one hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The boy looked up at the law man and asked “What’s goin on Carl?” Carl smiled reassuringly and said “No big deal, just gotta ask you a couple questions ok?” Mr. Bellard entered the office first and knocked on principle James door before going in followed by Tommy and Carl close behind. 

“Come in Tommy have a seat.” Said Mr. James. Carl stood behind the principle facing Tommy and Mr. Bellard took a seat next to him. Carl spoke first, once the door was closed for privacy and all were comfortable. “Tommy, I need to ask you some questions but the law says we can’t do that without one of your parents present so we’re just gonna wait a few minutes till your dad gets here.” Any other person not to mention any other child would normally be nervous and jumpy in the presence of these imposing figures and in this particular place but the young boy seemed oddly calm and unaffected by it all. While the three men waited anxiously, the boy simply watched out of the window behind Mr. James with an almost amused look on his face. Carl finally spun around and looked over his left shoulder a second to see what was capturing Tommy’s interest and saw some boys fighting in the courtyard! “Fight!” called out the deputy as both Mr. James and Bellard hopped up from their chairs and raced outside to intervene. While Carl and Tommy watched two boys wrestling on the ground within a large circle of spectators, John Rensel walked into the small office. “Hey Carl. Got here soon as I could, what’s the boy done?” The deputy smiled disarmingly as he rested against the wooden desk in the center of the room. “It’s nothing, just need to ask your son a couple questions and, well you know the law, adult present and all that.” John nodded and sat on one of the chairs in front of Carl. Carl checked over his shoulder again and then looked back at the man and his son. “I think those two are gonna be busy a while so I’ll just get this over with and let you both get back to your business. “Tommy, word has it that you’ve been seen around the quarry, have you been playing around there lately?” The boys father looked gravely serious as he looked down at his son. “Well, answer him. Have you been out there?” Tommy looked at the deputy and Carl went on “You see there’s a lot of dangerous stuff out there and that’s why we try to keep people away from there.” John became impatient, “Well, have you been playing out there or haven’t ya?” Carl knelt down to look Tommy face to face. “It’s ok Tom, you can tell me. I won’t be mad, I just need to know if you saw anything goin on around the quarry.” Tommy thought a moment before changing his demeanor to look wide eyed and innocent. “Well, about a week or so ago when I was playin in the woods a little ways from the rusty fence, I saw some men walkin around on the other side. They didn’t see me.” The deputy perked up. “What were they doin, could ya see?” Tommy shrugged his shoulders and feigned ignorance. “Nah, I realized I shouldn’t be near there and left.” Carl sat up and looked at John. “Thanks for comin in john.” Then he looked at Tommy, “and thank you for tellin me the truth buddy.” He patted Tommy on the shoulder. “I’ll appreciate your time and I’ll let you know if the Sherriff needs anything else.” Then Carl walked John and his son to the door and then down the long hallway.

John strolled in between Carl and Tommy as he walked back to his classroom. “You know, you’re not supposed to be that far from home. You have no business out at that place, it’s dangerous and I warned you that if you went there you’d be punished.” John told his son sternly. “Uh huh.” Tommy acknowledged. A few seconds went by until they had finally reached Tommy’s class. “Since you told the truth and all, I guess we can forget the punishment, just don’t let me catch you back there again.” Then John and the deputy turned and left the boy to his teachers care. Of course this time around the woman in front of the class held her tongue and diverted her eyes so as not to make eye contact with the boy as he walked back to his seat and slumped down into the chair. Soon class was over and the students quickly got up and made for the door and then the hallways leading to their next destination. Tommy was lazily strolling passed the other children as they raced so as not to be late. In a matter of seconds the hallways were empty save for Tommy. Then someone appeared to be blocking his way. It was Scott Dunkle, the sixth grader that ruled the school with intimidation and a strong right hook. He stood directly in front of Tommy with a sneer of contempt on his ruddy face. “Where’re you goin Tommy?” he voice hissed with hate. “We’re all alone now, Donnovan ain’t around to protect you.” Tommy half-smiled and then rejected the emotional display of amusement. “You’ve got it backwards Dinkle.” Tommy says mispronouncing the bully’s name on purpose. “Michael doesn’t protect me, he’s protecting all of you.” Moving with the speed of a trained fighter, Tommy lunges for the boy, his fist connecting with the larger boy’s throat with such force that it not only surprised Scott, it crushed the boy’s windpipe as well! If that weren’t enough, Tommy began kicking the older boy as he curled up on the corridor floor, over and over without letup until the injured boy began coughing up something thick, dark and red. Tommy stopped and inspected his handy-work for a second and then turned and left. 

By then enough time had passed that it was now almost eleven thirty and the buses had begun to arrive to pick up the students and return them home. Tommy remembered that his mother was running errands and his father, having forgotten that this was a half day had just left to go back to work leaving him with no ride home. At that same time on the front steps of the school, John stopped to talk to Carl some more. “So what’s all this about anyway, Carl?” “Why’s everybody so interested in the Mortimer quarry?” Carl was hesitant at first but then chose to come clean with his friend since he felt he could trust him to keep it quiet. “Somethins been goin on out there for a couple of weeks, no one is really sure what. But there have been strange sounds comin from out that way and some of the farmers around that property have been callin in complaining of the ground shakin a couple times.” John looked at his friend with cautious disbelief. “Strange sounds? Earth quakes?!” He began to laugh. “Are you serious, is this a joke?” “Some drunk farmers and an abandoned mine and the Sherriff is all in a tizzy?!” He chuckled some more. Carl smiled and looked down at the sidewalk before admitting. “Yeah I know it sounds crazy, some kind of monster in the woods.” Now both men were quietly laughing. 

The F.D.R. Grade School dismissed the students at half passed eleven as busloads of children headed home for the day, save one boy who began walking in the direction of home alone. After clearing the school grounds and passing the middle school he was joined by the same older boys who had been meeting him out at the quarry for past few weekends. Seven boys in all ranging from thirteen or fourteen and Tommy who is still nine years old, soon to turn ten. In most cases a group of boys like that would usually display the typical hierarchal assembly while walking together. The oldest or more dominant male out front with subsequent males of lesser status following and the youngest trailing behind of even tagging along at a distance. This group’s cadence was very purposeful and deliberate with the smallest and youngest male leading the pack. “There’s something strange about these kids.” Sherriff Robert Troup thought to himself as he watched with binoculars from a good distance away on Harper’s ridge for a few seconds, then set his binoculars down and picked up his 35mm camera with extended telephoto lens and snapped a few shots. The law man had been keeping a watchful eye on the boy called Michael Donovan for some time. The Donovan family were no strangers to law enforcement since Michael’s father had been in and out of jail several times since the boy had been born and it was Bobby’s personal opinion that the bad-apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. If there was some mischief going on out at the quarry it had to involve the Donovan boy somehow and following him would probably lead him straight to the source of all the commotion. What he hadn’t counted on was the presence of the other boys, especially the young Rensel boy, “how does he fit into all of this?” the Sherriff wondered. 

Chapter Three: The Others

Michael Donovan and his friends followed close behind Tommy as he made his way swiftly across two hay fields that lay fallow and a band of trees that circled the land belonging to Mr Baker. His farm was one of the largest in the county at just under two hundred acres and just beyond the tree line to the north of his land sat the thick forest that concealed the infamous quarry that had everyone in an uproar. Sherriff Troup slinked along in his cruiser from a rather far distance in order to observe but not be spotted by the boys. He made a left onto Sutter Road and pulled over to park and watch. But by the time he slipped the shifter on the console into park and looked up they were gone, all of them. Unknown to him the boys split up and went off in four different directions while he wasn’t looking, almost as though they knew he had been watching. Troup quickly shifted into reverse and gunned the accelerator and swung his car into the crossroads and headed off in the direction of the quarry lane. Within minutes the old Ford was plowing through weeds that had overgrown on both sides of the abandoned dirt road. But when he finally arrived at the gate that closed off the entrance to the place it was closed and chained shut like it had been for years. He jumped out of the car and went to examine the lock and chain and found it completely rusted over and untouched. “So the boys weren’t using the gate.” He thought to himself. He decided to have a look around and quickly noticed a small make shift fire pit to the right of the gate. He could tell it hadn’t been lit today but was sure it had been in use relatively recent. He passed a ripped up old leather couch and some wooden crates and followed the chain link fence through the thick brush and trees all of the way around the two acre area until making his way back around to his car again, all the while not finding any holes or disturbances in the fence anywhere. Now the man was not only irritated, he was completely befuddled. 

The young sycamore trees scattered throughout the old pines and thickets of jaeger bushes made passing through the forest adjacent to the Strathmoore ranch difficult for most sightseers and naturists or birdwatchers that often made the trek to these parts in search of wildlife and such but to a local with a working knowledge of the trails it was a short and leisurely stroll and Michael and Tommy traversed the outer ridge of the corn fields until they had reached the drainage ditch. At the mouth of the large gash in the earth sat the opening to a large pipeline that ran under the hillside and exited into the fenced off part of the quarry. Only a few people who had lived here years before Mortimer’s quarry had been closed knew of the secret entrance and the reason why it had been closed off for all of these years. It was for that reason that the Sherriff and those of his generation were ignorant to it. No one under the age of ninety would’ve remembered it and of those two or three still living, none ever spoke of that place. However, Tommy knew, he knew the whole story. The sound of mud sucking and water sloshing filled the dark tunnel as the two boys made their way farther and farther into the blackness. Only a small lighter lit their way forward. The dancing flame cast wavy shadows all around them and only permitted them to see a few feet ahead of them but still they pressed on. The tunnel ran approximately two miles before opening up under the thick cover of shrubs and saplings. Michael carefully held back the greenery while Tommy passed through and then returned the favor. 

Meanwhile a couple miles away, Brian, Trevor, Tim, Jackson and Steve trudged through the damp hay fields that led back to the housing plan where most people who weren’t farmers lived. Brian and Trevor were good friends and hung out together playing video games and reading comic books and getting into trouble since meeting three years ago at bible camp. Tim Gaffer was Jackson’s older brother by one year and looked after the younger although he tended to bully him just as much. Steve came from a very religious family that lived in a small house on the outskirts of the plan where the rest lived and tried to fit in as much as possible but due to his emotionally repressed upbringing it was this meek and quiet boy that secretly carried with him the most anger and volatile rage of any of his contemporaries. The boys split up and went to their respective homes to wait for word from Michael who was more or less the leader of the pack but seemed to take his direction from Tommy. Tommy was definitely the one calling all the shots but he never confided in the others directly, he spoke privately with Michael who then passed his instructions on to the others. This caused a bit of contention among the group since the five felt left out but no one dared say anything or refuse to comply. They all knew what Michael was capable of and that Steve was extremely loyal to Michael and he could be a wild card when under pressure. Time would tell what would eventually become of this band of brothers but for the time being each boy stayed true to his word. No matter what happened, all six of them would keep Tommy’s secret. It was fear of what might happen to them if they ever spoke of what they had seen less than a year ago as they stumbled across the small, thin boy just inside the safety fence across from Baker’s farm. 

John finished work and drove home along the same route as he had for the last ten years, since landing a foreman’s position at Moss Construction. As the wheels of his Durango hugged the edge of Decker road as his left arms hangs lazily out of the lowered window, a familiar tune by Grand Funk Railroad poured out of the speakers and filled the truck’s cab causing the doors and dashboard to vibrate. He was so caught up in the music that he almost sideswiped the car that barreled past him, kicking a ton of dust in the air and startling John who slammed on the breaks and skidded to a halt. Exasperated and ready to turn that truck around in order to go after the guy who almost hit him head on, he checked his rear view mirror and saw the very same car with its back up lights heading back toward him. Once the car was within a few yards John recognized it and calmed down. He sat motionless as Sherriff Troup rolled up next to him facing the opposite direction. “Sorry bout that back there John my mind was else ware and I didn’t notice you till the last second.” John smiled and relaxed. “What’s got your brain so distracted Bobby?” The Sherriff took a blue handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat from his eyes. “It’s this Donovan kid. I can’t help but think that somethings goin on but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what.” John leaned on the door of his truck and poked his head out of the window. “What exactly do you think is goin on out there?” Bobby shook his head “I can’t put my finger on it but somethin’s stirring up the cattle over on Carver’s ridge. Nobody’s seen anything, it’s all just second hand stories and claims of crazy sounds but nothing concrete.” “I just wish I could know for sure.” John thought for a second before deciding to ask “You don’t think my Tommy is involved do you?” That caught Bobby’s attention and he chose his words carefully so as not to tell his lifelong friend what he had seen less than an hour ago. “Nah, he’s a quiet kid, a good kid, I doubt he’s in on it. Besides he’s a lot younger than the others.” As the words came out of the Sherriff’s mouth he wished he could have stopped them but it was too late and he could only hope that his friend wouldn’t pick up on his meaning. “Well I’m glad to hear that at least.” Said John without any mention or questions concerning ‘the others’. 

It was close to seven thirty in the evening when Trevor knocked on the back door of his best friend’s house and waited for Brian to let him in. Trevor was used to coming over when he knew both of Brian’s parents would be at work. They worked the night shift at Trafford’s Grainery from 6pm to 6am five days a week and that gave the boys plenty of time to play video games and raid the fridge. “So what’s it gonna be tonight, hockey or football?” Brian asked. But Trevor didn’t answer right away, instead he stood looking out of the living room window at the sunset. Brian found his behavior odd and out of the norm. “C’mon man you’re startin to freak me out a little bit.” Trevor turned to his friend with the most serious look on his face that Brain had ever seen on his friend. “I don’t like what’s goin on with Michael or us or any of the others.” Brian became fearful and raised his hands to calm Trevor and reason with him. “Listen man, everything is going to be just fine, Michael and the boys are ok. Everything will work out just don’t go sayin anything to anybody.” “Don’t be stupid.” Brain said calmly as to persuade his buddy from doing something that they would both regret. Trevor sat down on the worn, blue love seat opposite Brian. “I just don’t like how Michael follows Tommy around like a puppy!” Brian quickly put his hands up again but this time his face shown panic! “Don’t talk like that dude, don’t let anyone ever hear you talk like that, especially Steve!” Brian knelt next to Trevor. “The best thing for all of us is to keep quiet and do like Michael tells us, ok?” Trevor relented finally and nodded in agreement. 

Meanwhile, a couple miles away, the boy known as Steve to his friends lay across his bed looking at a magazine. Stephen Fend loved reading monster magazines and looking at the colorful pictures. Universal Studios monsters fanzines fascinated him. He loved watching all of the old black and white movies from the late thirties and early forties and could imagine himself as a character in one of the old films. In his early teens his family had taken a vacation to California and took one of the tours of the studios. The dream of being an actor in a sci- fi movie had been sparked that day and ever since he couldn’t think of anything but leaving this town and moving out West as soon as he graduated High School. “Stephen, come down stairs for dinner!” He heard his mother’s voice loud and clear from the bottom of the steps but chose not to respond. A few minutes later the same voice called for him again with a slightly more serious tone this time. By the third time she called him it was followed with a visit from his father who didn’t look amused by his son’s lack of indifference. “Your mother’s been calling you, now get downstairs and apologize for being rude.” Stephen slowly got to his feet and stumbled to the door to his room and down the stairs where he found Karen Fend waiting. “Sorry mom, I lost track of time.” He said sorrowfully. His mom smiled with forgiveness and went on about setting the table. After a few minutes the entire Fend clan were seated around the table while Mr. Fend said grace while the children ages 12 & 10 sat across from Stephen with his parents at both ends. When his dad had finished they all began passing platters of potatoes and carrots, roast beef and gravy. Stephen woofed his food down like a man possessed as his siblings watched in amazement. “Slow down! You’re gonna give yourself indigestion if you don’t slow down!” His mother beckoned. But Stephen wasn’t interested in anything being said at the moment, he merely needed to fill his stomach before heading off for Michael’s house a few blocks away. Stephen swallowed his last bite of beef and chugged a full glass of cherry cool-aid before rising and spinning toward the front door. His father called after him to no avail and even tried to go after him but finally gave up and let the teen go. The man went back into the dining room and returned to his meal refusing to look at his wife’s disappointed gaze. He had become weary of all of her disapproving and condemning looks when it came to his failure to control the boy. It was only a matter of time before he reached his boiling point when she would give one snide remark or judgmental look too many and he was going to flip out. But for now the family sat and ate in silence. 

The sun had set as a pale three quarter moon took its rightful place in the night sky as Steve joins up with Michael who waits for the other boys to arrive one by one. When everyone had finally shown up Michael grabbed a shabby green back pak with military markings and threw it over his shoulder before pulling an old silver Ray-O-Vac flash light and switching it on. The boys behind him lit their lights as well as they followed the beam of light out front emanating from Michael’s who led the way. Brian and Trevor were at the tail end of the group and whispering so as not to be overheard by the others. “Why do we gotta be out here in the dark? It’s a school night anyway!” Trevor complained, struggling to keep his voice down. Brian shooshed him at first before talking under his breath as well. “I told you, you’re gonna get us jacked up, shut up! Besides, since when have you ever cared about a school night?” Trevor refused to be stifled although he wasn’t interested in arousing the group’s anger or distrust. (In a low voice) “I just don’t wanna get caught by the cops and sure don’t wanna get mixed up in something dangerous that could get us hurt or maybe even killed.” Stated Trevor anxiously. Brian contemplated his friends concerns but eventually reiterated his stance. “Just keep it between us if you know what’s good for ya.” At that very moment something startled the two boys from behind causing them both to jump! “Hey, what’s so important that you two gotta keep cackling back here?” Asked Steve. Trevor fumbled around trying to think of something to say without incriminating either himself or Brian. But Brain had a quick wit and jumped in to save his buddy. “Ah it’s nothing important, he’s got a test tomorrow and he’s worried he hasn’t studied enough.” Steve put his hand on Trevor’s shoulder and lightly shook him. “You’ll do fine, relax.” Trevor nervously shook his head in agreement and looked over at Brian for reassurance. Brian smiled. “See, just listen to Steve, it’ll be fine.” 

The three boys quickly realized that there companions where getting too far ahead of them and they had to hustle to catch up. As a group, all seven of the boys climbed the small hill behind the police station and slid down the other side, coming to a halt just a few feet from the back door. Tommy whispered something to Michael and he in turn motioned for the others to sneak around to the front of the building and carefully peak into the station through a side window and wait. Michael watched the youngest of them slip up next to the power transformer beside the back door and suddenly the night sky lit up with a shower of sparks and surging lightning! The police building immediately went dark as did every light and electrical device within a three block radius. The flash of light followed by total darkness caught the Sherriff in his office totally off guard. He reached for the flashlight on his belt and found it dead as well. Knowing his office well and feeling his way around from room to room, he made his way to the back door and opened it. He expected to see a tree limb against the transformer or possibly even a fried critter that had caused the explosion but what he didn’t anticipate was what he found bathed in the glow of blue-white light just beyond the open doorway! At that very moment out front, the other boys ran for the door and scattered once inside. Each boy held a flashlight that still worked for some reason as they searched the office. Finally it was Steve that found what they were sent to get, a 35mm camera with telephoto lens. He motioned to the others with his light and all five cleared the entrance and bolted for the woods. They ran in tandem until they had reached the entrance to Mortimer’s quarry and they all collapsed onto the ground in a heap of gasping, out of breath teens. Steve was the least winded since he was an athlete and was used to running laps every day after school. Brian and Trevor were struggling, having spent most of their time playing video games and gulping soda every chance they got. Tim was lying flat on his back looking up into the sky and Jackson coughed from his mild case of asthma. Steve held the camera up to his eye and peered through the tiny view port, until he heard a noise! He spun around to face whatever was making its way through the trees. Out of the darkness walked Michael and Tommy. Michael looked to his comrade, “You get it Steve?” he asked. “Yep right here!” Steve tossed the camera to Michael who in turn handed it to Tommy. The young boy disassembled the intricate machine and popped open the small door in the back. He ripped the film from its cradle and handed it back to Michael who immediately took it to the fire pit and lit it. It burned brightly for a second and then smoldered and bubbled on the ground within the circle of stone. The boys watched the tiny flames dance and disappear. Trevor had held his tongue long enough and the curiosity had finally gotten the best of him. “So what was so important about that film that we had to steal it from the cops anyway?” Brian’s eyes widened and his pulse raced as he tried to silence his friend with a glance but was ignored. Michael walked over to Trevor and stood face to face with him, not saying a word. 

It was now close to midnight behind the sheriff’s station where a man lies face down in the grass a few feet outside of the open doorway, his eyes burned and unable to see anything. A short while had passed when he heard the voices that seemed to be getting closer. He rolled onto his back and tried to yell for help but he could barely get a word out. He ran his tongue across his lips and tried again but his saliva stung his blistered skin. At last the sound of footsteps reached him and he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Bob? Can you hear me? It’s Carl.” In excruciating pain the poor man forced out the word “FIRE!” and then collapsed unconscious. Even with the power out for several streets, neighbors and rubber-neckers alike began to gather around the sheriff’s station and congregate on the front lawn like vultures hoping to get a look and find out what had happened. Carl ordered his men to keep everyone back. Among the faces in the small crowd of on-lookers stood a thin older man with a cane. He caught Carl’s attention for a second and then seemed to disappear. The deputies did their best to control the growing crowd as paramedics carefully loaded the gurney into the back of the ambulance. “You think he’s gonna be ok?” asked Ted, one of the local men who found himself newly deputized due to the current emergency. As second in command, Carl had to now assume the mantle of interim sheriff making it necessary to enlist local help. “I sure hope so. I like being a deputy but I never expected to have to take the sheriff’s place, he’s a good man and a strong person. I don’t know if I can do this.” 

In an ambulance racing across town two paramedics attend to the man in uniform whose face is so badly burned that neither is able to recognize him. The acrid odor of burned flesh and hair turns their stomachs. Tubes filled with saline and powerful pain medication run in and out of his body as oxygen fills the mask over his face, all in an effort to keep him alive. As he clings to life his blackened eyelids flutter but refuse to open.

Chapter Four: Flashes of light

By the first light of morning the streets had cleared of emergency vehicles and gawkers leaving only a long yellow ribbon of police tape surrounding the empty building. Deputy Carl Jeffries, who refused to take the title of Sheriff in the interim had to vacate the offices while the state and federal officers fought over jurisdiction and who could lay claim to the crime scene. FBI forensic team members had photographed every square inch of the building and the grounds around it as well as collected small baggies of samples to rush back to their lab. Meanwhile Carl and his newly recruited men set up shop in the old empty Woolworth building near the center of town. The dilapidated and boarded up storefront had come to life with law enforcement, fire and rescue, power, phone and water utility workers. The sleepy small town began to resemble a military outpost or headquarters. The normal flow of traffic was rerouted away from the area near the crime scene so that investigators could do the work. But as far as the day to day life of most citizens were concerned it was business as usual. Men and women going to work, children off to school and retired old folks gathering at the McDonald’s for breakfast and the daily gossip session. No one would make any official statements but carefully guarded conversations went on among those charged with figuring out what had happened to the sheriff and the power the night before and whether there was any connection between them. 

Outside of the city limits John Rensel is slowly coming to life as he sits down to breakfast and picks up the morning paper. The headline on the local periodical reads “Light out downtown, Sheriff Troup injured in fire.” “Hey Katey, did you see this?” His wife leaves the stove and joins him at the table looking over his shoulder. “Oh wow, no, I didn’t look at it. Does it say what happened?” John scans the type. “Just says there was some kind of fire at the police station, no information as to what caused it but apparently Bobby’s in the hospital, no details as to his condition.” “Didn’t you say you just talked to Bobby yesterday?” Katey asked. John folded the paper and laid it on the table. “Yep, passed him out on Decker road when I was driving home.” Katey went to the phone and dialed bobby’s house to try and get ahold of Tracy his wife and see if there was anything she needed but there was no answer. “You’re wasting your time, Tracy will be at the Hospital.” “She’s probly got a whole lot of help too, she’ll be fine.” Katey became incensed. “He’s your friend and you don’t even seem to care!” “Wo! Hold on there!” John shot back sharply! “I care, we’ve been friends since we were kids but there are better people than us who are more qualified to look after her and Bob.” Katey calmed down and sat down next to john at the table. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” John smiled and touched her hand tenderly. “It’s ok, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” “It just seems like things have been all upside down lately, Carl and the principle at Tommy’s school, the bus incident and now this thing that happened to Bob.” Katey smiled and tried to comfort her husband. “Things happen, life changes, there’s no reason for some of it, it’s just unforeseen circumstances sometimes.” John smiled back at his wife and then a thought crossed his mind and the look on his face shifted to serious concern. “Where’s Tommy anyway?” Katey thought for a second before rising and climbing the stairs and opened her son’s bedroom door. She was instantly put at ease when she saw him sleeping peacefully in his bed. She closed the door gently and crept back down the stairs. “He’s fast asleep in bed, I didn’t have the heart to wake him yet, it’s Saturday after all.” John went to the bottom of the staircase and yelled up to the second floor! “Tommy? Time to wake up and get dressed, c’mon down!” Katey looked puzzled. “Why does he need to wake up it’s only eight o’clock in the morning?” But John was determined. “C’mon! Get up, get dressed and get down here!” He then walked to the breakfast table and took a few sips of coffee and put it back down. 

Meanwhile upstairs Tommy was already awake, in fact he hadn’t been asleep, not then, not last night, not ever. He dressed and met his father in the living room. “Good, you’re up. I’ve got a job for you. I’m going to teach you how to tune an engine and change the oil in my truck.” Katey wanted to object at first but then chose to remain silent, figuring that some time together might do them both some good. But what she wasn’t aware of was the way John ‘taught’ his son. He wasn’t so much teaching as he was using the boy as a go’ffer. While changing the oil he yelled at the boy to hand him tools as he needed them until the oil had all been drained into a plastic pan on the gravel and he told the boy to remove it from under the truck. Tommy quietly obeyed and slid the pan across the ground until it had cleared the bumper. Unfortunately, an unseen piece of gravel caught the edge of the pan causing it to halt instantly and the oil shifted and spilled over the edge and onto the ground! Even though he did spill the dirty oil, it was an accident and only a teaspoon full of oil was lost. It was definitely nothing to worry about but to Tommy’s father it was a mortal sin! He exploded immediately! “What’s a matter with you?! You spilled the oil all over the ground! You gotta learn to watch what you’re doin!” John shouted and flung tools while continuing on his tirade for several minutes while Tommy stood watching silently. After a few minutes John calmed down and started working on the engine. Lifting the hood and laying his tools out on the fender. “Alright now, get over here and hold this flashlight!” Tommy climbed up onto the bumper and leaned over the engine compartment until a large left hand from his dad pushed him backwards and knocking him off. “You can’t stand there and block my light, I can’t see with you right there in my way!” Again Tommy said nothing and simply absorbed the abuse. It was when Tommy was standing on a bucket holding the flashlight for several minutes without moving that the boy’s arm and shoulder began to ache and he switched the light from one hand to the other that his father blew up just one time too many. Tommy shifted his weight from his left leg to his right and switched hands on the flashlight causing the light to move a fraction more than john could tolerate! “Damn it Tommy! I told you to hold that light still! If you don’t start paying attention I’m gonna …” But the man never got to finish his sentence. Instead, the boy jumped down from the bucket and reached down under the pick-ups door frame and ferociously flipped the automobile over onto its side with a thunderous boom! Shards of glass sprayed the hay bales stacked next to the barn door! Sticking out from under the mangled vehicle were the crushed and bloody legs of the boy’s father. When Tommy began to calm back down, his pulse slowed and the buzzing in his head dissipated, he opened his eyes which turned from black to light blue again to see the truck still sitting upright and his father working under the hood like nothing had happened. Tommy’s mind was shaken a bit and rattled as he returned to normal and he climbed up onto the fender across from John and fixed the light back on the spark plug as his father ratchets it into the engine block. 

The large outdoor clock suspended up above the doorway of the old Woolworth building on the corner of Jefferson st. and Main struck noon as sheriff’s deputy in charge, Carl Jeffries sat in the sheriff’s patrol car next to the new headquarters. He noticed the sheriff’s patrol log book on the floor of the cruiser and picked it up. Leafing through it he found the last entry dated for the very day of the blackout and the accident. It was marked 1230pm and the name of a road near the school. He stepped out of the car where Special Agent Wilson was waiting. “I didn’t want to talk inside where others might hear, I figured it better to take a walk and discuss what my team has found.” Offered the agent. Carl walked next to the man casually taking a stroll as if nothing was going on. “So did you find out what happened to my boss or what?” asked Carl. “The lab found nothing unusual at the scene and no signs of accelerants or explosives. The power company had no explanation as to why the transformer blew, it was only a year old and no sign of tampering.” Carl became perturbed. “So you couldn’t find any cause for what happened to Bob?” The agent looked down at the sidewalk and shook his head. “Nothing that we found can account for the burns to your friends face and eyes.” Carl places his hat on the hood of a parked car and folds his arms over his chest. “People around here aren’t gonna accept that answer I can tell you right now. Hell, I don’t wanna accept it either but I guess it’s all we got right now. The agent leaned closer to the deputy’s ear and spoke in a low tone. “There was something odd on the man’s computer.” Carl perked up. “What was it?” he asked in the same quiet voice. “Well, my IT guy ran a diagnostic on the computer in the sheriff’s office and was able to see what he was typing into a file just before the power went out.” Stated agent Wilson. “He typed in two names and the time, Michael Donovan, 1230pm.” “And the other name?” asked Carl. The agent pulled a piece of paper from his vest pocket and unfolded it, handing it to Carl. It simply read, Tommy. 

Back on the Rensel farm, John finished with his truck repairs and went into the house for lunch yelling to Tommy to wash up and eat. Tommy however went into the barn and put the tools back on the workbench. As he stood still holding the ratchet his father had been using his eyes went dark and all emotion washed from his countenance. Suddenly and without any warning he hurled the piece of steel across the barn and clear through the large, heavy barn-stone wall! The boy stopped and returned to normal. Tommy was aware that he had been having more of these incidents lately where he would either dream of losing control or actually losing control. When this happened he quickly reclaimed his composure but it was becoming more frequent and more difficult to snap out of. He wondered if something was changing inside of him. Was he losing control or was he beginning to actually take control? It was too early to tell he decided and went into the house. Katey was fiddling with something or other in the pantry off of the kitchen while Tommy’s father sat at the table eating the ham sandwich and potato chips his wife had set out for him. The boy took a seat as well and ate the sandwich on his plate but chose to leave the chips untouched. “What’s a matter? Why aren’t you eatin your chips?” inquired John whose voice denoted a touch of sarcasm as well as contempt. “You never eat chips do you? There’s gotta be something wrong with you I swear. I’ve never seen a boy who didn’t like potato chips. You’re weird.” Katey finally came back into the kitchen just as John finished goading Tommy. Tommy noticed that his father did most of his insulting and threatening when his mother wasn’t around, perhaps to hide his abuse of the boy, Tommy thought. One thing was sure, the man was dangerously close to reaching the end of his rope and he wasn’t even aware of it. 

It was now Saturday evening and most of the special operations personnel had gone to their homes or back to where they had come from and things had become very quiet around the sheriff’s station and Woolworth building as well. Carl was out on patrol and things seemed to be getting close to normal for the first time in days. Carl had received a phone call from Bob’s wife at the hospital that Bob was stable and getting good medical attention and would be released next week. The deputy cruised the streets for a while thinking about the two names found on his boss’s computer. The Donovan boy was no stranger to trouble any more than it had been for that boy’s dad but, Tommy that was something different. His long-time friendship with the boy’s father notwithstanding, Tommy was a nice kid, shy and a little quiet. He was definitely not someone Carl would pick for causing trouble or being mixed up in something. But, the two names had been typed into the computer just before the blackout by his superior, who minutes later was badly injured! There had to be some explanation but Carl couldn’t come up with anything that would dispel his suspicions. The ideas and thoughts swirling around in his head finally got the best of him and he whipped the car around and headed out to where the Sheriff’s patrol log showed that he had been earlier in the day of the incident, Decker road. It was a cool hazy night with the moon obscured by clouds making driving out in the country particularly difficult given the blackness and absence of street lights of any kind. Eventually the deputy found his way to his destination. The old wooden sign with faded lettering read, Decker road. He made the right and headed in the direction of the quarry since that spot had been of some importance to the sheriff in the days leading up to his conversation with John Rensel at the school. It had been Sheriff Troup who had sent Carl to the school in the first place. Apparently while he was interrogating Tommy in the principal’s office the sheriff Troup was involved in his own investigation and it had led him out here. He drove for twenty minutes or so with no sign of anything unusual or out of the ordinary. “Just fields and rows of trees, wait! What was that?” Something caught the man’s attention for a split second but when he stopped the car and looked around he couldn’t see a thing in the ink black night. “Whatever it was its gone, if there was even anything there in the first place.” He said out loud to himself. He wasn’t the skittish type but still chose to talk out loud whenever he was alone at night on patrol just to keep himself company. Sometimes the eerie quiet was too much for someone all alone in the middle of nowhere and Carl consoled himself with the sound of his own voice. “Wait! There it was again!” He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the spot where the blue light had come from but he had a pretty good idea of the general area and decided to return the next day for a better look around. As his cruiser pulled away down the road the sound of footsteps in the gravel stopped to watch the tail lights fade away into the night.

Chapter Five: blunt force trauma

It was a dark and cold October morning somewhere around five o’clock as far as John figured. He stumbled around the second floor of his home, first going to the bathroom and then heading back to the bedroom when he glanced out of his half closed eyes through the half closed door to his son’s room and noticed the empty bed. He stopped and went to the door and pushed all the way open. As the door swung back into the room, there in the room next to the window opposite to the bed stood the boy, fully dressed and wide awake. John felt a tingle run up his spine. “What are you doing up so early?” he asked his son but the boy just stood motionless looking him in the eye. “Well, you forget how to talk?” Still nothing. John became frustrated and took a few steps toward Tommy and in a patronizing tone, chided the boy. “Oh there he goes again, you try to talk to him or ask a question and all you get is the eyes! Those same blank cold blue eyes. I can see them now starting to glaze over. Can you even hear me, are you even in there?!” With the boys lack of movement or verbal response John just gave up and went back to bed and drifted off to sleep once again. But the boy was in there! He was very aware of the man’s verbal abuse and mockery! He replayed the man’s words over and over in his mind! He heard that voice so many times before that it had become the sound of the voice in his head, that inner voice we all carry around. Call it conscience, inner self, the ID, whatever it is that speaks to us when we feel pressure to react to something imposing itself on us, it sounded like John to him. And he hated it! Tommy walked to the stairs and descended to the front door and left the house. 

The sun pierced the darkness and began slowly rising over the dark fall landscape of Miller Estates as Michael walked across the front yard of an understated middle class pre-fabricated house that usually fill the spaces along winding asphalt drives inside housing plans in these parts. He came to one particular house and stood reading the mailbox at the end of the cement walkway… white letters formed the word the Keets. The whole family were all still fast asleep in their beds when the ear piercing screech of the smoke alarm sounded! In a matter of seconds black smoke started to billow from under the eaves of the roof until red flames within managed to tear a small hole in the shingles which quickly engulfed the entire second floor. Glass broke and vinyl siding buckled as the first floor began to give way. Several neighbors who gathered outside to watch the fire trucks and emergency workers trying desperately to squelch the searing yellow and white flames, later recounted hearing yelling and at least one scream from inside the inferno before the firemen retreated suddenly and the two story residence collapsed without a single person making it out alive. Among the onlookers stood a youth of fourteen, shoulder length brown hair, a gun’s n roses t-shirt and Levi’s. He watched the fire hoses extinguish the fire and after the residual smoke began to clear, the first responders enter the rubble and pull four body bags out on stretchers and load them into ambulances bound for the morgue in the next town over. As people stood across the street beyond the yellow police tape, everyone spoke quietly amongst themselves and all agreed that it was a terrible tragedy. Drew, Tracy and their two kids, eleven year old Tiffany and fourteen year old Trevor, dead. 

By now the clock was getting close to eight o’clock in the morning and Brian wad just gotten up and dressed for church. He attended every Sunday with his parents who didn’t give him a choice. His mother made it abundantly clear, as she put it “when he was eighteen and had moved out on his own, then he could decide for himself if he wanted to go to church or suffer eternal damnation!” But for the next few years at least he would have to attend services at the first Antioch Methodist Church on the weekends before the football game came on at noon. He ate cold cereal and placed the empty bowl in the sink and rinsed it. Mr. Thomas, Brian’s dad yelled from the open front door that it was time to go! One by one the Thomas family filed into the Bonneville sedan and drove off. Minutes later the car pulled into the church parking lot where Don was surprised to see fewer cars than usual. They got out and walked to the door to the church where the pastor was standing. His calm face and jovial smile were instead replaced with a truly disturbing and profound sadness. “Good morning Thomas family. Hello Don, have you heard the news yet?” Mr Thomas had no clue what the man meant. “Kids why don’t you go inside and find us seats while the pastor and I talk.” Janet ushered the two kids into the building as James spoke with Don. “Don, it’s just horrible! I hate to be the one to tell you being that your son Brian and…” The man found it hard to keep his composure. “Brian and Trevor Keets are such close friends but… this morning there was a fire.” Don Thomas grew concerned and asked “What was on fire James?” The man’s head hung low. “The Keets family… there were no survivors.” he barely managed to say before breaking down. Don was in shock but tried to console his friend. Just inside the door and around the corner stood Brian, tears streaming down his face. Mumbling to himself in an undertone “You stupid idiot, I told you not to say anything but you wouldn’t listen. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?” 

A few blocks from the church Steve and the Gaffer boys, Tim and Jackson were walking up the walkway to the Donovan home and stood outside waiting for Michael. Within a few minutes Mr. Donovan noticed the boys and stepped out onto the porch. “You lookin for mikey?” he asked unlike anyone else had ever heard. “No one but his mother and father ever called their son Mikey and heaven help the fool who tries!” Steve thought to himself before speaking up. “Yeah we’re supposed to meet him here.” Jake Donovan scratched his head and looked the boys over. “Well he ain’t here, he left outta here about seven this morning and he aint come back.” Steve nodded to the man and motioned for the others to follow him when he turned and left. Half way down the block Jackson asked “So where we goin?” Steve answered abruptly. “We go to the lot in front of the quarry like Michael told us to if we need to find him.” Tim was next to say something. “Yeah, the quarry is the meet up spot.” All three boys sauntered down the street and across the park before jumping the ditch and crossing Baker’s farm and finally the quarry entrance. As they managed their way through the weeds and brush and came out in front of the main gate they found Michael sitting on the shabby old couch in front of the fire pit. “Hello boys.” Said Michael. Steve joined him on the couch as Tim tossed stones over the fence trying to hit an old wooden box. Jackson stood across the pit from Steve with his hands in his coat pockets when he asked “Where’s Brian? He comin?” Michael was sharpening his knife on a smoothing stone and didn’t bother to look up when he answered “Maybe.” Then Tim asked “What about Trevor?” Michael continued to slide his blade across the smooth stone as he stated “I seriously doubt it.” 

Two days passed after the untimely loss of the Keets family and as is accustomed in public schools, councilors and clergy were available for any students who found themselves having trouble dealing with grief and loss. Brian Shaw slinked through the halls of the junior high avoiding eye contact with his teachers in order to keep to himself. He didn’t want to talk or open up to anyone. He wanted left alone. He had lost his best friend and he knew who was responsible! However, proving it was something entirely different. He felt certain it had been Michael, either by his own volition or that of his master, Tommy. Whatever the circumstances, his friend had paid the price for speaking up and he felt the weight of responsibility for not being able to convince Trevor to keep quiet. Compounding his sorrow was that he had no one to confide in. Before it was Trevor that he knew he could count on to listen and offer advice but now that option was gone. He couldn’t go to Steve because he would immediately run to Michael. He didn’t feel comfortable confiding in either Tim or Jackson because he hadn’t really known them very well. No, he was on his own and wasn’t going to risk being the next one of the group to be taken out. He would remain silent and bide his time.

Tommy strolled down Thompson Run road, which ran passed his parents farm all the way into town. He was in no hurry. To anyone driving by he would have appeared to be in a bit of a daze almost but of course he wasn’t. His mind was sharp and his thoughts very precise. He was interested in seeing an old friend whom he hadn’t spoken to in a very long time. But prior to the visit, he wanted to pass by the Troup home and see how the sheriff was doing. It was common knowledge that Bob Troup was being released from the county hospital today and would be coming home finally. After a month of surgeries and therapy he was well enough to return. Tommy waded through the small crowd that gathered across the street from the Troup’s home and stopped to watch as a patrol cruiser pulled up in front of the house and a dark blue SUV pulled into the driveway. After a few minutes Sheriff’s Deputy Carl opened the right back door and helped a man out of the vehicle and offered his arm. The man was dressed in a red track suit and tennis shoes and he wore a ball cap. When he accepted Carl’s help and began to walk toward the house he turned and his face became visible to Tommy. It was obvious that even with the dark sunglasses’ shielding his damaged eyes, it was Bob Troup. Tommy turned and moved on toward the railroad tracks that led out of town at the south end of the neighborhood. The boy strode along for several minutes while swinging a stick like any other child might. But he wasn’t like any other kid and he had no interest in sticks, he chose to swing it in order to appear like any other normal kid his age. He wanted to make his way across town and down Rt. 66 unnoticed, he needed to be unassuming, invisible. Tommy stayed off to the side of the road as he walked, kicking gravel as went in order to amuse himself and pass the time. He had traveled a mile out of town when he came to a clearing in the trees where a small modest one story wooden house stood. The house had seen better days but that was long ago. The roof was in need of replacing and the shutters and slats hadn’t seen fresh paint in years. The yard surrounding the home was overgrown with weeds and patches of bare dirt scattered about. No one had been interested in the up-keep and if it weren’t for a light on inside showing through the window and a mailbox with fresh mail inside a person might have judged it abandoned. As he walked around to the side of the tiny building he found a heap of engine parts rusting on the ground next to a disassembled ford tractor covered in the same brown rust. Among the overgrown shrubs and ferns, a dirt driveway cut through the thicket and up to the garage door where a faded black Chevy Nova sat. The car looked to be in working condition from the look it. 

The boy stood like a statue looking at the house with an almost wistful presence in his eye until he heard a man’s voice. “I knew you’d come back.” Tommy turned to see a thin elderly man with a cane. His hair was as white as his patchy beard, his clothes worn and his eyes tired. Tommy noticed the man’s hands, his fingers twisted and his knuckles were gnarled by time and arthritis so he could barely hold on to the intricately carved oak walking stick in his left hand. “Time hasn’t been kind to you old man.” Said Tommy in a lifeless manner. “Huh, old man. You’ve got nerve callin me old man. You’ve been alive a lot longer than me.”   
Sheriff Troup settled back into his home with the loving assistance of his devoted wife and friends. Tracy and Bob had been married for close to eleven years but hadn’t had any children. She began making the house ready for her husband’s return almost as soon as she heard that he was well enough to be discharged. Furniture had been strategically moved to allow free movement so as not to trip Bob up if he tried navigating his way to the bathroom. The doctors had urged Tracy to allow him to do as much as he could on his own in order to become independent or he might sink into a depression and regress. She assisted with things that he couldn’t do on his own yet but pushed him to do what he could at this point and it was paying off. Bob could traverse the living room and bed room and even use the restroom on his own, all without the use of his eyesight. The bandages weren’t due to come off for a few weeks yet. Tracy kept the dressing dry and clean and bob was on a prescription of anti-biotics to stave off infection. Bob enjoyed listening to the TV in the afternoon and that’s where Carl found him when he came calling Tuesday around two o’clock. “Who’s there? Tracy?” asked the blind man. “No, it’s me, Carl. How you doin Bob?” The uncovered part of his face shown a big smile as someone happy to hear a familiar voice. “Carl! How have you been buddy?” Carl took a seat on the chair facing him. “Oh I can’t complain, no rest for the wicked.” Said Carl. “No, I mean how has it been around here since I left?” If Bob could have read the expression on Carl’s face he would have known the answer to that but all he could do was wait for an answer. “To be honest it’s been crazy! Everybody lookin at me for answers and expectin me to know what to do.” Carl said half exasperated and half lost. Bob sat quiet and unmoving. “Have you taken the job yet?” asked Bob. There was a nervous pause and then Carl spoke. “They wanted me to take your place but I would never do that, I’m still your deputy, I just had to take on responsibilities until you get back is all.” Bob nodded and then consoled his friend. “You’ve been a good deputy and a good friend for a long time Carl. I seriously don’t know what fate has in store for me but I do know that you need to accept that job.” Carl’s protest was cut off by Bob’s words. “There’s no way I can come back, it’s ok, you have my blessing, though you really don’t need it.” Carl sat stunned at the proposition of taking up such a heavy mantel. 

Somewhere in the next county over, underground wells that have served the community for years begin to run dry. Cattle farmers have to call in water trucks to keep their herds hydrated and city officials begin to panic. The last thing they need is an emergency situation so close to election time. The Army corps of engineers was finally called in to survey the area and find out where the water went. After two weeks of exhaustive drilling and testing it was determined that a crack in the earth’s mantel had shifted beneath the entire state and the land was losing its underground reservoirs.   
Meanwhile in a small dilapidated one story house in the woods a mile outside of Charelton, a young boy and the old man that resided there stand at odds to size each other up. “What brought you back, didn’t you get your fill the last time you were here?” asked the old man. The youth made no effort to explain his motives. “What’s the matter, not happy to see your little brother Harlan?” the boy asked. “Don’t say that name, you’re not Harlan!” Matthew hollered! “I was surprised to see you were still alive after all these years. I would have thought you’d have gone to join your family by now.” The elderly man’s face distorted in anger! “Don’t talk about my family! You destroyed everything good in my life, left me to grow up alone with nothing but pain and misery.” Tommy glares at the old man. “And what about me?! You trapped me down in that mine and left me for dead! All of those years lost!” “When you finally came back I didn’t even remember who I was!” The boy goes to the shelf over the fireplace. He stops and looks over the photographs neatly arranged in small wooden frames. His cold blue eyes rove for a few seconds until his gaze falls upon one particular picture of a two small boys, a little girl and a tall man sitting in the back of an old Ford pick-up circa 1927. He reaches and picks the photo up. “I remember this.” Then he goes silent for a few seconds as he focuses on the boys, one, brown hair like the tall man and similar features, the other, a boy with blonde hair and cool blue eyes. He then returns the picture to the mantle, not bothering to set it upright and lets it fall face down without fixing it. He then moves around the small room, eyes scanning the modest accommodations. “You could at least say something.” “What were you expecting to find after all these years? Was there something you forgot?” Tommy stopped and faced the man slouched down in his shabby, green easy chair. When he did he found himself looking down the barrel of a double barrel shot gun! Tommy showed no sign of fear, his expression was more like curiosity. “You look a lot like your father did, was a shame how things turned out.” “We never meant to hurt them you know. We came here by accident. We just needed host bodies from this world to absorb our essence. We wouldn’t have been able to survive without them.” Mathew spoke through gritted teeth. “I should never have let you out! “I should have left you down in that hole!” Struggling to pull the trigger of his gun Mathew Mortimer gasped as Tommy stared into the man’s eyes! Finally there was a thunderous boom as the gun went off! Anyone unfortunate enough to have passed by and witnessed the terrifying sounds and screams coming from inside or the strange shuttering of the walls of the little house would surely have been plagued with horrific nightmares but on this particular evening no one happened by.

Tommy left the house through the front door letting it close behind him as he descended the stairs and waded through the grass on his way back to the road he had arrived on and walked toward the direction of town. The sun was hanging low in the sky and the clock outside the First Regional Bank read seven fifteen. Having traveled half way home he took a short-cut through the school yard. He passed the swings and assorted playground equipment when he noticed someone walking directly toward him. Any other child his age would have felt uneasy or down right fearful of being approached at dusk all alone like this but Tommy wasn’t “any child.” Even though he had no fear of confrontation, he also had no intention of engaging anyone. He simply wanted to move on about his way unobstructed or sidetracked. Unfortunately, as he had learned already, the world is full of people with their own agenda that feel the need to impose their thoughts and beliefs on all they encounter and this was going to be one of those times. Tommy was within a few feet from the woman directly in his path when she yelled out aggressive and confrontationally “You aren’t supposed to be walking across the field! This is school property and no one is to be on the premises after hours!” Tommy had no need of discussion and deviated his way passed her without saying anything or making eye contact. “Hey! Didn’t you hear me?! I told you to leave, now!” Still the boy walked on unfazed by the woman’s tirade. If she had just calmed down and left him alone, he was only a few feet from exiting the property that she was so adamantly trying to protect. But her intention wasn’t about the property or protection, it was about her need to bully someone younger and weaker than herself. That’s why she turned and grabbed for the boy’s arm. That was a very bad mistake! As soon as her sharp fingernails came in contact with the boy’s coat sleeve Tommy stopped and turned on her. Years of his father’s verbal and mental abuse, compounded by the interference in his plans not to mention having just dealt with a long time loose end that could have derailed everything he had been working so hard to accomplish had built up in him and was about to boil over with disastrous results. The young woman had no way of knowing what was about to happen to her and having been warned in advance wouldn’t have changed her disposition anyway. She was about to learn a valuable lesson, unfortunately she would never get the chance to pass the wisdom on to anyone. 

As venomous words were still pouring out of the woman’s mouth when Tommy’s eyes turned dark and his hand raised, palm facing her. Her eyes went wide and shown fear like none she had ever known before! The boy had exacted swift and unrestrained punishment before, but it happened only in his mind like a dream or illusion that manifests itself in reality. But this, this was no dream or hallucination! This was even more real than anything he done before! When he raised his arm, her feet left the ground. She struggled and fought to breath but his will was unrelenting and powerful! In the instant she found herself in the air shaking to get free the thought of how powerful he was passed through her mind just before her neck snapped and Tommy released her. Her flaccid body lie on the ground, twisted with arms and legs positioned in an unnatural fashion like a paper doll dropped from its string and huddled in a pile on the floor of a little girl’s room. Tommy stood over her, his head at a slight tilt in curiosity. He thought to himself, “All of the others where different, not like this one.” He wondered if this was a new development in his growth and maturity. 

Chapter Six: sacrificial lamb

The sun had set and the darkened area where his aggressor had fallen would hide his handy-work till morning so he left her lying on the very spot he had dropped her surrounded by several feet of burnt grass all around her and merely continued on his way home. In the early hours of the following morning somewhere between three and four am, George the groundskeeper spotted what he believed to be a pile of leaves that had fallen from the tree close by and grabbed a rake to clean it up when he found the woman’s mangled body. Nine-one-one was immediately notified and soon the area was taped off by the newly appointed and sworn in Sheriff, Carl Jeffries and his two new deputies, Jim Halloway and Terry Kemp. After the forensics team had stripped and photographed every inch of the site, the woman’s body was taken away and the family notified. One of the new deputies motioned to the Sheriff and they both walked a few yards away and met near the tree to speak in private. “What’s going on Terry?” asked Carl. “I overheard the lab guy and the photographer talkin about how this didn’t make any sense to them.” Carl was contemplative. “Did they say anything else?” he asked. The deputy looked around to make sure no one could hear them before turning back to Carl. “They say her neck was broke but can’t figure out why.” It was at this time that the black vans began to pulled up to the school and the same FBI agents that had come for Sheriff Troup’s case had returned to investigate the newest unusual crime. “Oh great, the Feds.” Carl stated and then headed for his cruiser hoping to avoid talking to the agents. Unfortunately they had anticipated his retreat and met him half way to his car. “Deputy Jeffries! We meet again.” “It’s Sheriff Jeffries now, and what can I do for you gentlemen?” Carl corrected. “My apologies, Sheriff Jeffries, I wasn’t aware that you had accepted the position. I take it Mr. Troup was unable to return to duty?” Carl felt like he was being interrogated. “As a matter of fact he retired and he asked me to take his place.” The agent nodded and turned his attention to the site nearby. “Dead girl huh?” Carl looked the man dead in the eyes. “Yeah broken neck.” The agent dismissed the stare coming from the Sheriff and instead handed him an envelope. Carl took it and opened the flap before pulling a stack of papers and some photographs clipped to them. “What am I looking at here?” asked Carl. “They are satellite images and seismic charts. These are high resolution photos and infra-red as well.” Carl looked them over for a few minutes before repeating his question. “What is this?” The lead agent pointed to one of the black and white photos. “They all center somewhere around the area north of here that you locals call Mortimer’s quarry.” Sheriff Jeffries leafs through the information and then stops. “Mortimer.” Is all he says under his breath. The lead agent squints. “What is it sheriff?” Carl looks at the man while he mulls things over in his mind and then speaks. “Mortimer quarry, it was named after the family that had owned that property clear back to the early nineteen hundreds. Casius Mortimer farmed that land until a mineral company offered to buy it from him. He refused to sell but did allow the company to strip mine the section that is now the old quarry.” The agents listened intently until one of them spoke up and asked “And what of the family, any living relatives we could talk to?” Carl handed the packet back to the agent in charge. “As far as I know the only Mortimer still around these parts is old Mathew. He was Casius’ youngest son.” “But he’s gotta be almost a hundred by now.” Carl explained. Agent Carver motioned to his team and they headed back to their vehicles. “Would you mind showing us the way sheriff?” Carl sighed and tried to think of an excuse to get out of it but gave in finally. “C’mon, follow me.” He stated with audible annoyance.  
A veritable convoy of law enforcement rolled in tandem down Rt. 66 until the Charelton County Police cruiser pulled off to the side of the road in front of a small house nestled back in the trees. Dark Chevy Suburban’s covered the berms on both sides of the road and agents in both suits and tactical gear took positions all around the premises, guns drawn as the lead agent and his partner cautiously went to the front door and knocked. There was no answer as the men waiting patiently. After thirty seconds or so had passed, agents from every direction began looking at each other for direction until agent Carver tried the door knob and it turned freely. He put his left hand up to let everyone know to hold their positions while he pushed the door open with his right hand. The old timber door creaked open and swung slowly inward then stopped. Tensions were high since no one knew what to make of the place. But it soon became obvious that things weren’t ok here. With no light visible inside, Carver went in blind followed by Simmons. Suddenly the two men came barreling out through the doorway and didn’t stop until they had reached the lead vehicle! Out of breath both men struggled to calm themselves. Carver regained composure first. “Get away from the house!” “Get back now!” He yelled as loud as he could! Every agent present retreated back to their vehicles waiting for new orders and some kind of explanation of what to do next. Carver told Simmons to send for the lab-rats which is FBI speak for a specially trained haz-mat team of Doctors and scientists trained to handle contamination and quarantine scenarios. Carl hung back and went to Carver who had fully recovered from his initial shock and was entrenched in command status directing the operation at hand. “Agent Carver, can I have a word with you please?” Carver finished giving a subordinate some orders and then turned to meet the sheriff. “Sheriff I know this is your town and if I were you I’d wanna know what was in there too but believe me you don’t.” “If you would just handle crowd control until we figure out what we’re dealing with then I’ll personally bring you up to speed later.” As much as Carl wanted to argue, something in the agent’s eyes told him this was no push and pull show over who had jurisdiction. Something had scarred two highly decorated FBI agents half to death and he was willing to take the man at his word. Carl nods to the man and backs off to coordinate his men in putting up road blocks to keep unnecessary traffic away. Meanwhile the men in rubber, yellow suits and helmets arrive and slowly approach the house. They enter through the front doorway one by one. Then unexpectedly two men come through the door and run for a few yards before collapsing on the grass wriggling and fighting to get their helmets off! One of the men gets his helmet off and begins vomiting profusely while the other isn’t able to remove his helmet in time and fills it with vomit nearly drowning him before two agents in tactical gear come to his rescue and twist it off for him. Chaos begins to erupt as agents and medical personnel become fearful and begin to panic! Fortunately Agent Carver takes control and straightens the situation out before it got completely out hand. “Sargent! Take your men and secure the perimeter!” then he points to the house. “Trumble! Take six men and secure the front entrance! No one in or out!” His orders are carried out without discussion. He calls into headquarters in Virginia to give an initial assessment and pass along intel when he sees the Haz-Mat team leader Dr. Arlen suddenly emerge from the doorway. Two members of the tactical division guarding the door step forward with guns drawn on the Dr. according to agent Carver’s orders. Carver waves his arms and yells to the men to drop their weapons and let the man through which they do immediately. Carver and Arlen meet in the yard to talk so no one can hear the conversation. After a few minutes Carver returns to his van and leaves while Dr Arlen returns to the house and disappears inside once again. 

Amid the sirens and flashing lights that seemed to become a daily intrusion into towns folks lives, most people were becoming tired of all the attention that had been thrust upon their little part of the world and most were anxious for things to settle back down and get on with their lives. John Rensel had gone off to work while Katey got Tommy ready for school. The school bus had finally been repaired and a new bus driver hired to shuttle the kids off to school so the time had come for Tommy to start a new week of classes. However, it wasn’t a school bus that pulled up in front of the Rensel house this morning. When Katey looked out through the kitchen window she saw a battered old green station wagon with the passenger side paneling missing. It was billowing a dark grey smoke from the exhaust and white smoke from somewhere under the hood. Katey went out onto the porch when Sherry Donovan stepped out from behind the wheel and walked around to speak with Katey. “Hi Sherry, how have you been?” It wasn’t like Sherry to drive much less leave her home so a visit like this struck Katey as strange as it was surprising. Sherry Donovan looked to be about the same age as Katey even though she was in actuality ten years her junior. Bad decisions and a hard life had worn on the girl and aged her too soon. It was her husband, Michael’s father and his illegal schemes that landed him in prison and her in debt trying to raise two kids on her own. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the stories and judgement from her neighbors finished off any self-respect she still clung to. She was beaten and tired and about at the end of her rope but she still held out a glint of hope for a better life for her Michael and Julia. “Mrs. Rensel, you don’t know me…” The girl said humbly. “But your son and mine are friends and…” Katey interrupted the girl. “Please, call me Katey. Would you like to come inside and have some coffee?” The invitation came as quite a shock to someone so used to rejection and derision as Sherry. She smiled and joined her host in the kitchen. Katey poured the coffee into two large cups and brought them to the table and slid one in front of her guest. “Cream or sugar?” she asked. The other girl simply shook her head. “No this is fine, thank you.” Katey couldn’t wait any longer and decided to start the conversation. “So you said that my son, Tommy is friends with your son Michael?” Sherry warmed her hands with the hot coffee. “Yeah, they spend time together, them and those other boys.” Katey didn’t quite know what to say since she had no knowledge of the boys even knowing one another. “Other boys, what boys?” Katey inquired. The younger of two spoke candidly. “Brian, Stephen, Jackson and his brother Tim. Oh and, well there was that boy that burned up with his family, I think his name was Travis or something.” “Trevor.” Stated Katey. Embarrassed Sherry capitulated. “I’m sorry, yes it was Trevor, please excuse me. I never met him, they never came around the house, Michael always running off to meet somewhere in the woods up to who knows what.” Katey was very confused and eager to know more. “Sherry, why did your son and his friends become friends with my boy, he’s so much younger than Michael or the rest?” Sherry sipped her drink. “I don’t know really, I thought it was a little strange myself but when I asked Michael he just said to leave him alone and mind my own business.” “He’s so much like his father, but then sometimes he’s not like him at all ya know.” Katey was curious. “What do you mean, not like him sometimes?” “Well, like the other day when Jake was yelling at Mike and grabbed his arm. Michael didn’t fight back like he usually does. He didn’t yell or push or even struggle to get away. He just looked at his father face to face, calmly and told him to let go. And I’ll be damned if Jack didn’t let go.” Sherry leaned forward looking very serious. “Jake let go! And he didn’t flip out or smack him or nothing. I’ve never seen Jake back down or back off from anything or anyone but he did that day! And he hasn’t given Michael any hassle since.” Katey was becoming worried. Tommy was such a closed off child and he kept to himself most of the time. She had figured that he was shy or had trouble with making friends. She had no idea that Tommy had a bunch of friends and part of his life that he kept secret from her. She could see how he might not confide in his father but she was his mother after all. She had always believed that the bond the two of them shared was permanent and strong. She never imagined that it would be rent in two so early in his life. Surely he could wait until his teen years to pull away but not now. “He’s just a little boy.” She said to herself.

The two women talked for a while until the sound of a boy running down the stairs caught their attention. “Bye mom, I gotta go.” Katey jumped up from the table and caught Tommy half way to the front door. “Hold on, I need to talk to you.” The boy could barely contain his enthusiasm. “Mom, I gotta go!” Katey put her arm around his shoulders and directed him into the kitchen. He stopped dead when he saw the woman at the table. “Tommy this is Mrs. Donovan, Michael’s mother, she needs to ask you something.” The other woman seemed nervous but smiled. “Hi Tommy, I’m Sherry, do you know where my son is?” The boy didn’t speak at first. His mother inquired next. “Tommy, answer the woman, have you seen her son or know where he is?” The boy looked at the woman and looked into her hazel colored eyes. “Michael is with the others.” 

Katey followed Sherry outside. “I don’t know what those boys are doing but I have a really bad feeling.” Stated Sherry. Katey didn’t want to say anything but she was having the same feeling herself. Something wasn’t adding up and it frightened her as well. As they continued talking both women turned to see Tommy standing in the doorway watching them. In a low whisper so as not to be heard Katey says “Sherry, I know this sounds crazy… but I’m scared…” The younger woman gave her a knowing glance so as to say “me too.” By the time Mrs. Donovan had climbed back into her car and drove off in the direction of town, Katey went back into the house but found her home empty except for herself. Tommy was nowhere to be seen. 

Back at the sheriff’s office which had been cleared and reopened for use Carl and agent Carver sat reading and sifting through old county records and deeds. Agent Carver was holding some birth records when he spoke up. “It says here that Casius Mortimer had two sons, one born 1925 named Harlan and a second son two years later in 1927 named Mathew. Both birth certificates are here and I have all of Mathew’s paperwork here, grade transcripts, medical records and tax information. But there’s nothing in here for the older brother Harlan, nothing at all like he just disappeared or something.” Carl pulled a file from the many stacks of paper on his desk and opened it and then handed it to the agent. “This is all there is left of the records concerning the Mortimer family.” “There was a catastrophe of some kind in thirty eight that took the lives of almost the entire family. No specifics about what it was that happened just that it must have been bad and took place near the old quarry.” Carver looked the papers and pictures over for a few seconds. “That’s when the quarry was fenced in and locked up for good?” Carl leaned back in his chair. “Yep, they say it’s been off limits ever since.” Carver placed the folder on the desk with the rest of the papers. “So that’s it, no other family that we can talk to?” Carl flipped through a small phone directory on the corner of his desk that up until recently had belonged to sheriff Troup. “Mathew had a little sister named Emily. She went to live with relatives when the family, you know…” “Here’s the number for the aunt and uncle who adopted her.” Carl handed the card with the phone number on it to agent Carver. 

Later that afternoon when people were closing up shop and returning home from work Michael Donovan sat perched on the hood of a derelict car inside Porter’s salvage yard. He was flanked by Tim and Jackson on his left and Brian and Steve to his right. With the stern expressions on their faces and the worn clothes and long hair they resembled a seventies rock band, but there was no music being made here. The boys just sat waiting until Tommy came walking down the hill and slid through the opening in the chain link fence. “There’s a lot of heat around town. I need you all to lay low for a few days.” Tommy told his gang of followers. He climbed up onto the hood next to Michael. “You did well, I’m proud of you.” The older boy nodded with appreciation. Brian listened quietly, he was too fearful of what might happen to him if he asked too many questions so he kept his suspicions to himself. Tim and Jackson had gathered sleeping bags and supplies for camping out and Steve had procured enough food and cans of pop to last a few days as well. Michael told Steve to take the others and set up camp in Cooper’s hollow and the boys obeyed without discussion. Meanwhile Tommy and Michael stayed behind. “Your solution to our Trevor problem was very decisive and affective.” Michael stated. Tommy looked out across the hills. “The boy was too weak. I realized soon after he joined us that he would be the weak link and eventually would meet his end, he and his family were as good as dead anyway.” Stated Tommy with an air of certainty that disturbed Michael. “What do you mean as good as dead?” he asked. But Tommy didn’t answer. Michael thought for a second before asking “What about his friend Brian, do you think he’ll be any trouble?” Tommy’s voice echoed the same sentiment as before. “No he’s too afraid to make waves, he’ll keep his mouth shut, he’s still got a lot of living to do.” Michael felt the same shiver crawl up his spine as held a silver lighter in his right hand and kept flipping the top open and then closed, over and over. “How did things go with your friend?” he asked Tommy. “He wasn’t a friend, he was Harlan’s brother.” Michael looked directly at Tommy. “Was he the one who locked you away?” The younger boy sat looking out into the distant sky. “He was the one responsible for my imprisonment in that dark abyss! He’s the last of his kind.” “The last thing he saw was oblivion, a fitting end I think.” 

As evening wore on, agent Carver and the new sheriff Carl, paid a visit to the man who had previously held the title of town sheriff, Bob Troup. Tracy answered the front door as the squad car rolled into the Troup’s driveway. She held the door for the two men. Carl she knew but the stranger in the dark suit and cheap shoes had only caught her eye once before. “Bob, how are you buddy?” Carl yelled to the man sitting in the den listening to the TV. “Carl? Is that you?” Bob asked. “Yeah, it’s me and I brought someone with me, this is agent Carver with the FBI.” Bob stuck his hand out for the man to shake. “Oh sure, I remember agent Carver from the hospital, he asked me all sorts of questions about the night of the accident.” “Yes, I’m glad to see you under better circumstances, you look well.” Carver indicated. “I’m ok for the most part but the Doctors say my eyes have been too badly damaged and I may never see again.” Explained bob. Carver looked at the new sheriff and then at Bob. “I understand how confusing it must have been in the hospital with the sounds and needles sticking you but since you’ve come home have you given any thought to that night at all?” “Anything that you might have remembered from the night you got hurt?” Bob leaned back in his comfortable chair and fumbled with his glass of Ice tea as Tracy helped him set it on the tray next to him and then became quiet for a second. Then he began to speak to the agents questions. “Think about that night, that day? Yeah I’ve done nothing but think about it.” He continued. “I wracked my brain over and over trying to remember what happened that night. I constructed a timeline with Tracy’s help.” “Hon, please bring me my journal, it’s in the bedroom!” he yelled to his wife who did as he asked and handed the notebook to her husband. “Thanks dear.” He in turn handed it to agent Carver. “It’s all in there, everything I could remember, everything I did, saw and everyplace I went. But as for the weird light that blinded me… that ironically is just a blur pardon the pun.” Carver carefully perused each page and then closed it. “Mind if I borrow this for a few days?” he asked. “Go ahead, take it, hopefully it does more good for you than it did for me.” Bob lamented. “Well Bob It was good to see you, I’ll have Corrine call Tracy and see if there’s anything we can do to help out around here.” Said Carl. Bob smiled. “You’re a good friend. And I hear you’re doin a good job of fillin my shoes!” Carl blushed out of genuine modesty. Bob reached out and carefully took hold of his tea once again and made a toasting gesture. “To your investigation, may you find satisfaction.” Carl snickered as did the agent as they exited the small house and went to the car. They both climbed into the front seats and Carl fired up the ignition. “What do you think he meant by ‘satisfaction?” Carl asked. Agent Carver looked at the tablet in his hand. “In my experience there are very few cases, even the solved ones that let you walk away with a sense of closure or peace. I think he was wishing us well in solving these sequence of events and find an answer that we can live with.” “Wouldn’t that be nice.” Carl snarled sarcastically as they drove off. Carver reached into his pocket and pulled out the index card Carl had given him back at the station. “I think I’ll look into this Emily Mortimer, find out if she’s still alive and if she knows anything we don’t.” Carl switched on the radio and headed back to home base. 

In a small town in Wyoming an elderly woman sits in her kitchen drinking hot tea while reading a fairly worn copy of Fahrenheit 451. An accomplished author herself, she takes delight in the genius of Bradury. Her Science Fiction novels line the bookshelf in her living room but she prefers the warmth of the kitchen stove while ingesting her favorite pastime. Unfortunately the calm and quiet are abruptly disturbed by the sound of a telephone in the back ground. “Oh it figures, every time I get to a good part the phone rings. Probably the man from the publishing house callin to see how the manuscript is goin.” She saves her place in the book with a highlighter she uses to mark her favorite dialogue and rises from the table to answer the call. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through but it’s one she’s not familiar with. “Hello maam, my name is Special Agent Carver, I’m trying to reach someone who might know something about a family that may have lived at this address several years ago by the name of Charles and Nancy Calloway. Are you familiar with either of those names maam?” The old woman was cautious, she was well aware of the unscrupulous people who preyed on older people. Her friend Jenny had lost all of her savings to a shyster a couple of years prior. “Uh, I have heard of Charles and Nancy Calloway, they lived here a long time ago but they’ve both passed on.” She told the man. “Uh, why are you interested in them anyhow, just curious?” The man on the other end of the line explained succinctly. “They supposedly had an adopted daughter named Emily, would you know anything about her per chance?” The woman became very unnerved and hung up the phone without saying another word! On the other end agent Carver’s curiosity was now peaked. 

Chapter Seven: Ghosts from the past

It was nearly midnight when Tommy and Michael reached the campsite Steve and the others had set up next to the pond in Cooper’s hollow. The boys had all gotten permission to camp out except Tommy and Michael. Michael never asked permission to do anything and it wouldn’t have mattered if he had since his father had never shown the least bit of interest in the boy’s wellbeing and his mother had no control over him since the age of twelve. Tommy on the other hand needed his parent’s permission to pick out his own clothes for school and would never have consented to letting him camp out without one of them to watch over him, let alone hang out with this group of older boys that they weren’t familiar with. But Tommy was “tired of following those two simpletons rules” he thought to himself. “They have provided me with the cover I required in order to remain unnoticed but that time is quickly coming to an end.” He supposed. His mind wandering into the past as he watched the cool black water. “I used to sit and toss stones across this here a long, long time ago.” He said to no one in particular. Michael sat down next to him. “This pond?” he asked. “Yes, but then it was nothing, just a cracked, dry crater in the ground, not a drop of water.” Tommy reminisced. “My grandfather and I would walk these hills together searching…” Michael didn’t know much about Tommy other than a few things he had told him and what he had seen the boy do when they first met. Until now he hadn’t asked about where the boy had come from or if he had a family. “What was his name?” asked the older boy. “Same as mine… Elijah.” “You see his parents named him after a prophet because he was a miracle baby. His parents were older and had lived through a terrible tragedy and thought they wouldn’t be able to have children.” Michael was surprised by the boys candor seeing how he usually only spoke about what he needed from him and the others. “You said you and your grandfather were searching? Searching for what?” asked Michael. “Food.” The boy said coldly. Then the boy smiled just a little. “And crystals, I like crystals.” Michael saw for the first time, raw emotion beaming from Tommy’s face. This was something new.

Steve set up a make-shift table out of some dried out lumber left behind from some project, most likely the building of the small dock that jutted out a few feet over the edge of the pond. He laid out the food and drinks he brought with him while his companions unrolled their sleeping bags around the fire. Michael decided it was time to ask Tommy what his next move would be since he hadn’t given him any details since before gathering this merry band of misfits together. He hadn’t ever asked the boy why he had specifically chosen each one of the others to join the two of them. The older boy had a respect for Tommy that bordered on fear and dread, “dread of making his little friend angry and then who could tell what he might do?” thought Michael. But the time had come where he couldn’t blindly follow his directions without more information seeing how he had already committed murder when he torched a house full of people including one of their own. “So what’s your plan from here?” he blurted out. Tommy watched the moon casting its ghostly white shadow across the water and without looking up or turning to face his ‘sergeant at arms’ and trusted councilman he declared most coldly “Now it’s time to bring things full circle.” Michael was confused. “And what does that mean for me and the boys?” The younger boy rose from his seat on the ground and brushed his pants off. “I have something to do, it’ll take me away for a few days. In the meantime keep them and yourself out of sight here. You’ve already done enough and I don’t want you to get caught up in what’s about to happen.” Tommy confided. Michael became worried. “It’s gonna be something really bad isn’t it?” he asked. But Tommy didn’t have any comforting words for his friend. “You’ve been a good friend. My advice, when this is all over is to leave this place, go to school, find success and start a family. Don’t stay here and turn into your father. Get as far away from this place as you can.” Michael looked around. “What about the others?” Tommy showed no emotion on his face. “They have served their purpose.” Then he asked his friend if he had done as he had asked him. “You told your mother where we are?” “Yep, told her exactly where to find us just like you said.” Michael answered confidently. “Good, my adoptive parents will come looking for me, once they show up here, keep them here!” Michael contemplated the boy’s words quietly as he watched Tommy walk off into the darkness. Some feeling of foreboding told him that he was probably seeing the boy for the last time. As time passed slowly by that night Michael wondered why Tommy had chosen this particular spot for them to hide out. For months they had spent most of their free time together out at the quarry in the tunnel underground. The pond that lay in front of him was nearly six miles from there. But he reasoned that Tommy, or Elijah as he called himself, must have had good reason to leave them here. He had never known the boy to insist on anything without sound reasoning and forethought. Tommy was not impulsive or clumsy when it came to planning. As he scanned the area it occurred to him that they were surrounded by mountains from the South and tall hills covered in thick forest from the North and East. The pond was fed by a deep creek of fresh water that ran all the way down from a lake somewhere in the next county. It was a good spot to set up camp, protected by natural barriers in case… It was the thought that next ran through his mind that scarred him! 

John had been driving around all evening with Katey riding shotgun trying to spot their son. First they called every one of their friends and neighbors with no luck. Several had volunteered to join the search but John was a proud man and didn’t want to blow things out of proportion. Katey objected but went along for the time being. But she was getting more and more nervous as time went by and she was getting really close to insisting that John accept some help or even calling Carl. It was nearly eleven thirty at night when an idea popped into her head. “John, go by Jefferson St. I want to check on something.” She insisted. “Jefferson St.? what’s over there?” He asked. “I had a visit from Michael Donovan’s mother the other day and I want to see if maybe she or Michael know where Tommy is.” John’s face registered genuine confusion and shock at his wife’s admission. “What do you mean his mother visited you, when was this and why didn’t you tell me?” “How do you know her anyway?” He demanded. Katey was too worried about her boy to be bothered with John’s attitude for a change and ignored his question. John drove up the street reading the names on the mailboxes until he found one that had the name Donovan. Katey swung her door open and ran up to a small one level ranch style home that she noticed looked abandoned and shabby even hidden in the dark. John turned the motor off and made his way quickly to intercept his wife but she beat him to the front porch and knocked on the door. By the time John managed to reach his wife a light came on just above them and the door opened a crack. “Who is it?” came a gruff and unfriendly voice from within. “Hello, my name is Katey, Katey Rensel… and this is my husband John. We’ve been out all night searching for our little boy and I thought maybe your wife might have seen him.” Jake Donovan just looked them both over a second before opening the door and stepped back to allow them to enter. “Sher! Somebody named Katey here to see ya! Want’s to know if you know something about her boy!” All the while he never took his eyes off Katey or her husband. Soon a half dressed woman who looked like she had been asleep came down the hallway and into the living room. “Katey, what’s goin on? What’s this about Tommy?” Katey looked frazzled and about to cry. “We can’t find Tommy, he hasn’t come home and it’s not like him, he’s always home before dark, he’s never done this before. Have you or Michael seen him?” Before she could speak Jake chimed in with a sarcastic grin to match his tone. “Huh, Mikey! She don’t even know where Mikey is let alone your kid.” Sherry looked disgusted by her mate’s callous attitude. “Michael happens to be campin with his buddies, he asked if he could borrow a few bucks and I gave it to him.” “But he didn’t say anything about Tommy.” Just then Jake interrupted rudely! “Wait, you gave him money? How much?” Sherry pushed passed him, ignoring his questions and addressed her friend. “I can’t say for sure but I’ll bet he’s either with my Michael or he at least knows where he is.” Katey could barely contain her enthusiasm. “Would you know where they are?” Sherry wasted no time and grabbed her long winter coat. “Better than that I’ll show ya, c’mon.” John and the two women left in a hurry while Jake just slammed the door behind them and went back to watching TV. 

John drove while the two women chattered away. They went through town and headed out Rt 66 toward the salvage yard. On the way they came to a road block about a mile down the road. John slowed down and rolled the driver side window down as a man dressed like some kind of soldier carrying an automatic rifle approached cautiously. “Sorry, can’t let you through, this road is closed.” The armed man said staunchly. John could see a group of about five other soldiers standing guard in front of a barricade and a lot of bright lights up ahead. “What happened?” he asked. “Semi jackknifed, road crew tryin to clean it up.” The soldier replied. “Semi? Why would someone try to turn a semi around on such a narrow road? There ain’t no turn-arounds up there.” “I wouldn’t know, my orders are to keep all traffic back. There’s a side road about a mile back on your right that’ll take you around to where it’s clear.” Stated the man in armored gear as he backed away and gestured for John to turn his truck around and head away from their present position. He complied albeit under protest and drove back to Harper’s road. Sherry and Katey chatted about the boys and wondering what they had been up to all of this time. “I just don’t understand what’s happened to our little boy? It’s like he’s turned into a different person or something.” Katey lamented as the other woman tried to comfort her. “My Michael has been a handful since he was little but he’s still a good kid, ya know?” John shifted gears and made a hard right turn. “Kids grow up and get into all sorts of things that doesn’t mean their bad.” John said trying to calm them both. 

Across the county emergency workers and law enforcement tried to coordinate their efforts but the military weren’t as forthcoming with intel as Carl and his deputies had been. The high school football field lit up like daylight while a large Army helicopter prepared to land. Once on the ground, Agent Carter and his two subordinates exited the machine and approached the police cruiser parked just outside the fence. Hollering over the whirling sound of the chopper’s engines and props, Carter made his intentions known to the Sheriff. “I need to go to Wyoming and I need to take you with me!” Carter yelled while holding his hat in place with his left hand. Carl thought about it for a second and then chose to join the team, seeing how he was curious to find out what was going on in the town he had recently taken an oath to protect and serve. The four men boarded the chopper and slid the door closed as the machine lifted off into the dead of night and disappeared. Once in the air Carver spoke into his headset while holding a small map on his lap. “This is our current position here.” Pointing to a spot on the paper. “This is where we’re headed! Northrop Wyoming! I think the answer to some of our questions is there!” Carl nodded and leaned back into his seat.

Emily was busy cleaning her feline companions dish and filling it again with a can of fresh tuna just like she did every morning when she heard a knock at the door. She sat the dish on the kitchen floor next to a calico kitten that made short work of the pungent meal and then turned to answer the knocking coming from the front of the house. When she peeked through the eye-hole she saw three men, two in dark suits and another looked like police. “Hello?!” she said timidly through the thick oak door. On the other side the man in uniform leaned close and spoke to her. “Hello ma’am, this is Sheriff Jeffries, these two gentlemen are from the FBI, we just wanted to speak with you for a moment!?” The elderly woman slid the bolt out of the way and opened the door a few inches and peered through the opening. “Is there something wrong officer?” she asked hesitantly. “No ma’am everything is ok. We just wanted to ask you about the family that used to live here, may we step inside and sit for a few minutes?” The woman waited for a second and then opened the door wider and asked them inside. The three men took seats around the room facing Emily. Agent Carter introduced himself and the agent with him. “I’m agent Carter and this is agent Parker.” “Ma’am, I called this phone number yesterday, was it you that I spoke with?” he asked. Sheepishly the woman answered. “Yes it was me, I’m sorry for hanging up on you but with all the hucksters taking advantage of the elderly I was afraid to answer you.” Carter smiled to disarm her suspicions. “It’s quite alright, I totally understand.” “What we need to know is anything you can recall concerning the previous owners. May I start by asking your name?” She smiled disarmingly herself and said “Emily Tanner.” “My husband and I moved in here about thirty years ago when my Paul got a job with the insurance agency here in town.” Carter wrote something in his small note pad and then looked up at her. “Did you meet the family that lived here before you?” Emily smiled again. “Charles and Nancy Calloway where my parents. My maiden name was Calloway before I married Paul and took his last name.” Carl and Carter looked at each other. Neither man could figure out whether the woman was being secretive or if she was genuinely ignorant of her true identity? It was anyone’s guess at this point. Carl was becoming impatient and decided it was time for full disclosure in order to see where the woman stood. “Emily, you said Charles and Nancy were your parents. Did they ever talk about the Mortimer family?” Emily’s face went pale and her gaze became gravely serious. “Yes, the Mortimer’s were our cousins why do you ask?” Carter cut in next. “We don’t mean to upset you but we have reason to believe that you may have been adopted by Charles and Nancy after the Mortimer family died.” Emily shown no emotion on her face while she looked from one man to the other. “I’m well aware of who I am and where I come from. I may be old but my mind is still intact and my memory of back then is still vivid.” “Why are you digging through the past? The past is the past and it should be left alone! Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to have to ask you gentlemen to leave.” She stood and gestured toward the door from where they had originally entered from. Carter tried to smooth things over. “We’re sorry for dredging up any painful memories but if we could just ask…” Emily abruptly cut the man off! “No, I said leave! I want you to go! Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk about it ever anymore!” She yelled as she walked the men out. When the men had all made their way outside Emily slammed the door shut behind them. Carl dropped in behind the steering wheel while Carter took shotgun leaving the back seat for agent Parker. The car backed away from the house and Carl drove down the street a few blocks before anyone of them spoke and Carl would be the one to break the silence. “So whatta you think? Do you think the old lady is aware of her true family tree or do you think she really believes that she was Charles and Nancy’s daughter?” Carter looked through his notebook. “I was careful to read her reaction when we mentioned the Mortimer family and then again when you told her that she might be adopted, both times she didn’t register any emotion. Her face was blank both times.” Carter looked over his shoulder at the other agent with them. “What’d you see Parker?” The younger agent seated behind Carter reluctantly offered his opinion. “I felt as though she was offended, but almost too offended if you get my meaning?” Carter smiled and nodded approvingly. “Very astute agent, I concur, I think she doth protest too much.” Carl looked surprised and glanced at the man next to him. “I’m impressed, didn’t think you black tie types went in for things like Shakespeare.” Carter chuckled. “I’m just full of surprises Sheriff.” 

Back at the small house on Portman Street, Emily Tanner stood watching out the window, the sunlight reflected in her blue eyes. “You can come out now, it’s safe!” she said out loud so as to arouse someone. In response a cold adolescent voice without the deep pitch of puberty came from somewhere behind her. “They don’t give up. I’m going to have to be quick if I’m going to finish what I started.” Then he inquired “Are you coming back with me?” There was no immediate answer but eventually after a few seconds passed the elderly woman made her choice. “No, I’m staying here. I had a good life here with people who cared for me, there’s nothing for me to go back to.” “Suit yourself, I figured as much but I had to at least ask.” Said Tommy. Emily turned to look at the boy. “When we first arrived in this place I was angry with you and how things played out. Angry at being stuck here and then having to take Emily’s place and move in with the Calloways.” “But over time I began to forget and embraced this life.” “I don’t ever want to go back.” Tommy walked over to Emily and touched her shoulder tenderly and said. “I’ll miss you Christy.”

The dash-clock read four o’clock in the morning by now and John’s eyes felt like they were full of sand. Sherry and Katey were asleep on each other and John had to wake Sherry in order to get directions. “Sherry, Sherry wake up.” The young woman came too and looked around. “How far outside of town are we?” she asked. John wiped the sweat from his forehead. “We went all the way around the detour and back to the main highway again. We’ve gone about two miles or so passed the gas station.” Sherry wiped the sleep from her eyes and nudged Katey to join them. “Katey, we’re almost there.” Katey woke slowly and ran her fingers through her dark auburn curls. “Take a left at the next road and be careful it’s not paved only dirt.” John drove until he saw a small dirt road coming up on the left and began to slow down and put his turn signal on. He carefully turned the truck and cautiously drove on. After a few minutes a rusted out metal sign resting against a dead tree shown half peeled off letters. “Porter’s Salvage Yard” was all it said. As the truck went on, the headlights began to show something up ahead but john couldn’t make it out yet. Within a few seconds the gigantic pile of rusted out vintage cars came into full view. Then another pile and another, until it was obvious that they were in the middle of a humungous junkyard. In the ink blackness of night there was no telling how many rows of cars there were or how far the yard stretched. John stopped and turned the engine off as he turned to Sherry. “Well we’re here, now what?” Sherry pointed somewhere up ahead and said “we’ll have to walk from here.” All three of the worried parents climbed out and turned on the flashlights that John had kept in his glove compartment. The night air was still and the sounds of insects and critters running and scurrying while being disturbed were very audible. Crickets were so loud that Katey could feel her skin crawl and she stayed close to the other woman who didn’t seem to mind the darkness or the animal noises that went bump in the night. They circled around a while looking for any sign of life that might be human but there didn’t seem to be anyone within miles of this place they were scouting. Until, a glint of light! Katey saw it first followed by John and then Sherry spotted it as well. In nervous excitement the man and two women walked quickly to meet the source of the illumination in the distance. As they got closer John could make out the hills and silhouette of tall trees all around. Katey was focused on the firelight up ahead while Sherry noticed the shimmer of the pond just beyond what looked like a campsite. At that exact moment, Jackson saw flashes of light and alerted the others! Michael and Steve headed for the woods while Jackson, Tim and Brian ran for the hillside on the other side of the pond. The three adults reached the campsite and found it abandoned. “Well, where are they? It’s obvious that they’ve been here!” John said to Sherry. “I don’t know, he told me that he’d be here all night and during the day tomorrow.” Katey sat down next to the fire to rest. Being awake all night while searching for her son was finally catching up with her. Sherry spotted the green army issue knapsack that belonged to her boy and looked through it. “His wallet and house key is here, so he can’t have gone far.” John stood next to the pond and shined his light around trying to catch sight of anything that might explain what was going on. He walked around the pond and then decided to relieve himself for the first time in hours near the edge of the woods, out of the girls view. When he had finished he started back toward the fire when something met him in the darkness. John stopped and stood still until a voice cut through the still air. “Who are you? What are you doin out here?” John wasn’t able to recognize the voice since he and Michael had never formally met and talked before. “I’m john Rensel, who are you?” After a moment of silence the voice in the dark said “Michael Donovan.” John raised his light a little in order to see who he was talking too. “Hey! Watch the light man!” The startled boy hollered. “Sorry just wanted to get a look at you, I’m here with my wife and your mother.” Michael was shocked by the revelation. “What is my mom doin out here with you?” More flash light beams reached John and the boy. “Michael, where is Tommy, have you seen him?!” asked a frantic Sherry. John stepped forward and looked at the boy. “Michael, we’ve got to find him.” Michael wasn’t sure what to say since he hadn’t spoken with anyone outside the group about Tommy.

“Tommy was here. He brought us here and told us to bring supplies. He didn’t say why but just before he left us he told us to stay here and not leave for a few days.” John was confused. “Wait, he told you what to do and you just did it?! Doesn’t it seem odd to you that a bunch of teenagers are taking orders from a little kid?! Am I missing something?” “Michael, why did he tell you to stay here?” “Where was he going? He’s too little to be out here by himself!” his mother asked. But before he could answer, they were joined by Steve and the others. “Hey what’s goin on, who’s this?” asked Steve. Michael did the introductions. “This is my mother, Mr. and Mrs. Rensel.” He then turned and pointed to his friends. “Steve, Brian, Jackson and Tim.” John looked at the short boy with glasses. “Brian? Weren’t you friends with that Keets boy?” Brian nodded with sadness in his eyes. The moon was out from behind the clouds engulfing everyone and everything in an eerie blueish glow allowing everyone to see each other. “No sense standing out here, let’s go over and warm up by you fire.” The boys led the adults to the campsite and everyone got comfortable around the glow of Steve’s fire-pit. Brian passed around sodas and bag of teriyaki beef jerky while Jackson put a new log on the fire and John sat on the ground next to his wife with Sherry next to her son. Tim crunched away on a bag of Doritos and Michael stoked the embers. Sherry looked in her son’s eyes “Where is Tommy?”  
She asked. Michael didn’t speak, he just shrugged his shoulders. John had been patient but his patience was running thin. “Alright guys, seriously, no more games, where is my son? I wanna know right now so start talkin!” Steve took the initiative. “He left here hours ago, he didn’t say where he was going. We’re waiting for him to come back, same as you.” Katey was committed to finding her son and stated her intentions. “Well we can’t all just sit here till he gets back, you boys are gonna help us find him!” she stated with a determination that her husband seldom saw in her. “Let’s go.” John said while joining Katey who was now walking in the direction of the wooded area where they had run into Michael. Soon everyone from the camp was searching for any clue as to the boy’s whereabouts. An hour had slowly passed and there was still no sign of Tommy. John stepped up next to Michael and talked as they both walked. “So why did you boys become friends with our son, and why didn’t he ever tell us about it?” The boys all looked at Michael. “I was the first one of us to meet Tommy.” He explained. “I had a fight with my dad and I needed to get as far from him as I could so I went and jumped the fence to the quarry.” He continued. “Michael! You know you’re not supposed to be anywhere near that place!” Sherry hollered at her son. But Michael ignored her disapproval and continued to talk. “I was there just throwing stones into the lake and yelling at my echo when I saw Tommy hangin out across the lake.” John couldn’t believe that Tommy would totally disregard his rules like that. “He had no business being there and neither did you. That place is full of dangerous stuff not to mention the pit full of water, you could slip in and drown and no one would ever know what happened to you!” Michael had heard it all before and shrugged it off. “It’s not like anyone would notice if I drowned anyway.” He said under his breath but loud enough to illicit a response from the older man. “I don’t claim to know you or your family but if my son went missing or got hurt I would be inconsolable.” Michael had talked enough with the man’s son to know that he was blowing smoke. He knew the truth about his and Tommy’s relationship. John was a narcissist and only cared about how things affected him. 

It had been close to two hours and nothing pointed to where Tommy might have gone. “We should stop here and head back to camp.” John insisted. Katey wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea but finally gave in to reason. While they walked Katey could hear the boys whispering something and it bothered her. “Hey, what are you all whisperin about over there?” she wanted to know. Brian spoke up and explained the boy’s trepidations about finding her son. “Tommy told us to stay here and not to leave.” Katey was furious! “He’s just a little boy, all alone out there somewhere! If anything happens to him you’ll pay!” She snapped! Sherry held her tightly and pulled her back to the trail. Steve looked at his companions. “Huh, little boy! If she only had a clue!” 

Michael stayed relatively silent concerning the missing boy in front of his parents but the knowing glances from his friends said it all. This was no missing boy, it was something much bigger but the adults where either in total denial or completely out of touch. John told the others to hold up here at camp while he went to call the sheriff and send out a real search party. But as he walked back to the truck Michael followed and when they were only a few feet from the pick-up the man turned. “Ok, so you obviously want to say something but you didn’t want to say it front of everyone, what is it already?” Michael stood in front of him resembling more like a young man than a punk kid for the first time since they met. “I know this sounds difficult to understand and I don’t blame you for doubting me but your son, the boy you think of as your son is something else entirely.” John looked suspicious. “Whatta you mean?” Michael could sense that the man was less skeptical than he had anticipated and it surprised him. “You know there’s more to him than just a nine year old boy don’t you?” “You know more than you’ve let on.” John swallowed hard and tried to minimalize the tension. “I, I know he’s not like other boys. He’s different.” Michael pressed more. “Different how, why?” “What is it that you don’t want to admit?” John felt backed into a corner and yet strangely relieved to finally say it out loud. “He isn’t my son, not our son I mean.” Michael smiled. “Yeah I know.” Now John was perplexed. “How do you know about us adopting him, he was only five years old when he came to live with us. He couldn’t possibly remember that.” Michael folded his arms across his chest. “He remembers everything and not just going to live with you, he remembers things none of us know anything about.” John was confused. “What are you talking about?” he asked. Drive me to the quarry and I’ll show you what’s been going on while all of you in town have been going about your usual business. John thought about it and then motioned for his to follow him. The got to the truck and climbed in. Soon they were leaving the way he had come in earlier and back out onto the road. 

While John and Michael headed off on their adventure Katey and Sherry stayed behind with the boys. Steve was cooking hot dogs on a makeshift grill over the flames and using a pair of tongs to turn them every few seconds to keep them from burning. The boy stopped for a second and gulped down his Pepsi. “So, when was the first time you met Tommy?” Katey asked. Steve looked up at her with the flames flickering in his eyes. “When Michael took me on what he said would be an epic good time.” “What happened? Asked Katey. “He took me to this tunnel that he said went under the quarry. We went in and walked with a lantern for like ever it seemed until the tunnel opens up into this humungous cave!” “Then the cave started shaking like an earthquake!” “I was so scared but I couldn’t move, I just stood there with my hands trying to cover my head and then all of a sudden it was over!” Sherry and Katey both looked confounded. “What does that have to do with my son?” Brian sheepishly said in very soft voice “Tommy made the cave shake.” Katey stared at the youngster and Steve came to his friend’s defense. “Listen lady it’s just like he said!” Jackson stammered “We all saw it!” Tim nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Michael told us about it and we wanted to see for ourselves so we went with him and that’s when the rest of us met Tommy.” Katey was now livid! “So you’re all tryin to tell me that my son, my little boy is some kind of a freak?!” Sherry touched her friend’s arm. “I don’t think they are trying to call him a freak, I think they’re afraid.”

On the road again Michael watched the sun rise just over the horizon as the new day began. John’s mind was searching through all of the memories in his head, desperate to make sense of all this but the same words kept coming back into mind… “He’s not our son.” John now addressed Michael. “So what was Tommy doing at the quarry when you met?” Michael talked as if it had been years since that time even though it had only been a few months. “Tommy said he wasn’t from here and he needed to get back inside to get something he lost, something he really needed.” Michael took a swig of the soda he had with him. John remembered something from when Tommy first came to live with them. “Mr. Mortimer told us never to allow Tommy to go anywhere near the quarry.” “I just assumed that he either didn’t want people snooping on his property or that he just didn’t like kids.” Michael just had to interject now. “Well you didn’t do a very good job of watchin him cause we’ve been out at the quarry almost every day for close to a month.” John responded like any other father might. “Listen here kid, it aint easy workin a full-time job and runnin a farm while tryin to keep tabs on a kid!” “But then you wouldn’t know anything about that since you’re just a kid yourself.” Michael had no rebuttal and instead chose to ask a personal question. “Mind if I ask why you and your wife adopted Tommy in the first place?” John was taken aback by the boy’s bluntness not to mention insight. “He needed a family, someone to take care of him… and love him.” Michael’s facial expression showed disbelief. “C’mon, who are you kiddin, I know all about you and Tommy. Tommy told me how you yell at him and treat him like a stepchild.” John became furious! “My relationship with my son is none of your business!” “And for what it’s worth, you’re one to talk about father and son dynamics!” Michael let his words roll off of his back knowing the truth after all. 

John and Michael had finally reached the road to the quarry and John was about to turn onto the narrow lane when his passenger interceded. “Wait, no, not here.” He pointed to an access road further up the road. “That’s the way in, there.” John followed the boy’s suggestion and turned onto the dirt and grass covered byway. It circled around the corn fields and disappeared somewhere in the tree line when it finally ended. “Now what?” asked John? Michael opened his door and nodded his head in the direction of the forest. “C’mon, we have a little walk ahead of us.” John followed close behind. “Where does this lead to?” the man wanted to know. “it will take us under the quarry, to the place where Tommy takes us.” John couldn’t understand what was going on. “Why did he bring you down here?” Michael switched on his flash light. “We helped Tommy dig.” The answer didn’t satisfy John. “Dig? Dig where? For what?” Michael lit the way as they walked on. “Tommy showed us a secret way to get into the quarry from underground in this tunnel. It leads deep below the quarry and turns into a giant cave. He knows every inch of this place.” John couldn’t figure out how his son knew of the tunnel or cave. “Did Tommy tell you what you were digging for? Did you find anything down there?” he asked. “We didn’t know what he was lookin for at first, we just dug until Tommy said to stop.” “He only trusted one person and that was me.” John was looking directly at Michael. “You and Tommy spent a lot of time together, did he tell you what he wanted?” The boy thought about his response for a second and then answered him. “Tommy was looking for a crystal, he said he found it a long time ago but lost it. He said he needed it to get back home, he and another person but he never told me who or where he was from.” John thought for a minute and then began again. “When Tommy was first brought to us he didn’t seem to remember anything about where he had come from or where his family was.” Michael explained. “He didn’t know at first. He told me that his memory didn’t come back for a while after he was living with you. When it did come back he was hell bent on finding Mr. Mortimer and settling a score.” John asked “What did he have against the old man anyway?” But before the boy could answer he stopped and checked the symbol spray painted on the cave wall, a star surrounded by a circle. Then he coaxed John onward. About twenty minutes had passed when a light finally shown up ahead giving the man a sense of hope. They reached the point of illumination when Michael unexpectedly put his hand on John’s chest to block his way. Whispering carefully Michael leaned in close. “Stay back in the shadow here. I’ll go in first to make sure it’s safe.” And with that the boy disappeared through the narrow opening in the rock. After what felt like forever to John, a hand reached through the opening and pulled the man through as well. 

At first the light blinded john’s eyes which were sensitive to light from being in utter darkness for most of the night. After a few short seconds his eyes adjusted and the insides of a large cave came into view. To his surprise there was something lighting up the whole room. He couldn’t see any lanterns or lights like he was used to, only long bars of light coming from the walls and ceiling but unlike anything he had ever seen. “What is this?” he asked the boy. Michael went to the caves wall and touched one of the light sources which reacted to his touch by getting brighter. “Tommy says that they are crystals from deep inside the earth that grow here under ground. He told me that they receive energy from the electromagnetic field that passes through the planet and they react to our energy fields inside us.” John’s mind was blown at the mere sight of the cave but the crystals had him completely mesmerized. After a few minutes passed, John found the presence of mind to ask. “So now what?” 

A lone semi rolls down the empty highway leaving Wyoming and crosses the State line. The driver is a middle aged man with shoulder length brown hair and matching beard. His hat displays the John Deere logo and the tag on his left shoulder says Pete in cursive embroidery. Unknown to him a stow-away nestled in between the pallets of boxes in back. Pete keeps his eyes on the road while fumbling with a sandwich in his lap but looks down for just a second to catch a juicy slice of tomato before it falls to the floor when he hears the siren! “Aww c’mon!” he curses to himself in the cab as he watches the flashing lights in the side mirror. He slows down and pulls over bringing all eighteen wheels onto the shoulder of the road and grinds to a halt. Pete rifles around his folder and produces the paperwork required when stopped by a police officer and rolls his window down. Within a few seconds he saw the trooper’s reflection advancing toward his cab. “Good morning!” Pete heard from his seat high above the road. He looked down and saw a State Patrolman standing like a statue looking up at him. “Mind stepping down here with your license, registration and insurance cards?” The officer asked. Reluctantly the driver opened his door and swung out and down to meet the man with his papers in hand and gave them to him. As usual the officer took his good ole time flipping through the papers, making the driver stand and wait nervously. After a minute had passed the trooper addressed Pete finally. “You headed for Oklahoma?” he asked. “Uh yeah, I gotta haul these engine parts down to Tulsa and then make for Houston.” Pete explained. “Your manifest says you left Wyoming last night.” The patrolman said, more like a question than a statement. Pete didn’t understand why he was being grilled, as far as he knew everything was on the up and up. “Is there something wrong officer?” he wanted to know. But the trooper didn’t answer and began walking toward the rear of the trailer. “Mind opening up?” he pointed to the large padlocked door at the backside of his rig. “Sure.” Pete said nervously as he searched his pocket for the keys and then unlocked the handle. “Do you want to open the doors or do you want me to do it?” The trooper stepped up and told the driver to step back. It was about that time when more flashing lights showed up. Coming from both directions were two more State Patrol cars, back up, Pete assumed. He was correct of course and the other officers joined in searching the truck as one of them kept Pete company, standing on the roads edge with a very watchful eye. After a tense few minutes a strong male voice yelled “Got Him!” Peter was stunned as he turned to the trooper next to him “Got him?!!” “Got who?!” he asked fearfully! But when he turned his attention back to the trailer his heart sank. The two officers had emerged from the truck with a small boy in hand. Immediately Peter began to panic! “Woe! Woe! Hold on here, what’s he doin in the back of my truck?!” All three officers were staring at the man with accusatory eyes. As he shook his head fervently Pete kept repeating over and over again “This is not happening, I don’t know who he is or how he got back there I swear!” By this point Tommy was getting weary of being ordered around. As the police shoved the innocent driver they wrenched his arms behind his back and started to cuff him while explaining his rights. Tommy could hear the poor man pleading for someone to listen to him and that this was all a mistake. Then he heard one of the uniformed men say something to him about a witness stating that they saw a boy climb into a tractor trailer at a truck stop in Wyoming. Tommy had no time for this distraction or these men hassling the driver who had unknowingly helped him travel back home and decided to intercede. First, he shoved the officer standing next to him in the back of the trailer with such force that he flew nearly twenty feet and smashed through the windshield of his car! One of the officers subduing the driver tried to rush the boy as he yelled “Stop right there!” but was repelled the same way by a flash of light and power that sent the man thirty feet and into a tree, killing him instantly. The third officer, fearful from just seeing his brothers in arms dispatched like toys, tried to run for his car. However, tommy hopped down from the truck and cut him off. Standing facing one another Tommy’s face was lifeless and cold. They looked at each other for a second and then suddenly the trooper tried to draw his weapon! Before he could even loosen it from his holster, Tommy thrust both of his open palms in the man’s direction causing a shockwave of such magnitude that the man’s body convulsed backward as if in slow motion and then burst into nothing! Tommy turned to see a terrified Pete peeking around the corner of the vehicle. “It’s alright I won’t harm you.” The boy told but fear held him back. Tommy spoke reassuringly to the frightened man. “I just need you to take me to Charleton and then you can go about your business.” Pete looked all around and realized he didn’t seem to have any other options if he wanted to stay alive. “Ok, I’ll drop you off at Charleton, just don’t kill me.” Hoping to avoid any more delays the boy smiled to set Pete at ease and they got underway.

Chapter Eight: The darkest hour is just before dawn.

Sheriff Carl Jeffries and his two Federal companions reached town at about six in the morning and each of the men was tired and hungry from their fruitless excursion. Carl stopped in front of one of the three best dinners in town and shut his car off. “You gentlemen interested in something to eat? They got the best waffles in Clearfield County.” Carver and Parker could feel their stomachs churn and beg for food so they both joined the man inside. Each man ordered from the menu and enjoyed a hearty breakfast and black coffee before paying the check and walking back outside. “If I ate like that every morning I’d be three hundred pounds!” Parker laughed. Carter was quiet, deep in thought. “Have you been out to the quarry yourself anytime recently?” he asked the sheriff. “Because sheriff Troup’s journal has several entries that put him and some local kids in the vicinity of that place on several occasions in the past several weeks, like he was investigating that area.” Carl recalled how the sheriff had asked him to interview John Rensel’s son about the place a while back before all of the craziness began. This piqued the agent’s interest once again and he suggested that they take a drive out there. The 1984 Ford Grand Marquis, complete with sheriffs badge insignias on the doors and light bar across the roof, rolled down the dirt road covered in jagged weeds and brush on their way to the quarry. Since only tommy and his friends were the only ones alive that knew of the secret entrance, Carl and the two agents had to utilize the front gate. “Here we are, the quarry or Mortimer’s quarry to be exact.” Said Carl. Climbing out of the car, agent Carter examined the rusted lock and chain holding the gate closed. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s opened this in a long time. Carl and agent Carter walked around the fence-line looking for some sort of hole or opening but neither could find anything that would allow them to enter the premises. Finally as a last resort Carl decided to pull his revolver and ask the two agents to take cover while he aimed and fired at the lock. With a loud popping sound and flash of light, the lock fell to the ground in pieces. Parker released the chain that held the gates closed and slid one of the doors out of the way to permit them to enter. 

At that exact moment, deep underground in the cavern where John and Michael were, the sound of the gunfire echoed along the canyon walls until it reached their position startling both of them! “What was that?!” “It sounded like a gunshot!” John hollered. “Who the hell is shooting?” Michael grabbed the left sleeve of John’s jacket and pulled him back toward the opening in the rock. “C’mon, we need to get outta here! We can’t get caught in here.” John was in agreement and gave no resistance. Both of them ran for the cave and dashed along the dark corridor with only Michael’s light to illuminate their pathway. In no time at all they were back inside the pick-up truck and headed back to the camp site where John’s wife and Michael’s mother were waiting for them when the road began to shake and the ground rumbled below them. 

Agents Parker, Carter and Sheriff Carl pushed their way through the thick brush and tall weeds that had taken over the long abandoned lot. “Are you sure that this is where we were meant to go? This place is a mess!” Parker lamented. “This is the place alright but I’m startin to have second thoughts about Sheriff Troup’s hunches.” Admitted Carl. “This place hasn’t been tampered with as far as I can tell. I have to admit that I’m confused too, I thought there would be something here that might explain some of what’s been going on.” Agent Carter shared. With disappointment the three men agree to give up and go back to the car before one of them got hurt or lost. It was on the walk back to the car that Carl felt as though he was having trouble walking in a straight line and then Carter tripped and fell while Parker finally grabbed for the gate post to steady himself and hollered to his companions “Earthquake!” By the time he got the word out of his mouth the ground had begun shaking violently and the men struggled to get to the automobile. The quake seemed to last forever but it was roughly under fifteen seconds from start to finish. It was the aftershocks and minor tremors that followed that made it impossible to drive away. So the three men stayed put in the safety of the cruiser while the ground continued to move and rock the ground beneath them. Once the shaking had ceased for a minute or two, Carl started the car and drove away from the property as quickly as possible until they were back out onto the highway and enroute back to town. “How often do you folks have these tremors? I’m not aware of any seismic activity in these parts.” Carter asked. “We have been having quakes in these parts clear back to the late eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds but they have been happening more frequent lately.”

As they drove away they were being watched by the boy who had set everything in motion from the beginning. He was standing at the entrance to the cave having just emerged from deep inside the same cave previously occupied by the man who raised him and the boy he relied on to carry out his wishes. Once he was sure that he was alone for sure he walked toward the pond and waded through the tall weeds and slowly slipped into the murky waters that filled the manmade chasm in the earth. He went further into the water until it was just under his chin and then dipped below the surface and out of sight.

John drove without saying anything for a while as Michael sat quietly on the other side of the truck’s cab. For several miles both men remained silent until they were close to the road that would take them back to the salvage yard. “Where did Tommy come from?” Michael asked the man bluntly. John wasn’t accustomed to opening up to strangers but figured the boy wasn’t a stranger anymore. “He came to live with us about four years ago.” The man explained. “I know but I mean where was he from before that, how did he end up at your house?” asked the boy. “Old man Mortimer never told us any details concerning Tommy’s parents but we figured Tommy must have been family to the old guy, maybe an illegitimate grandson or something. Anyway he stops by one morning looking for the little boy but we hadn’t seen him so I go out into the fields and help him look for the kid. We find a scared little boy hiding in the woods at the edge of my land and we take him back to the house.” “Mr. Mortimer says he’s too old to take care of the boy and my Katey immediately offers to take him in.” “It wasn’t long before he had become a part of our family and Mortimer never came back for him.” Michael was intrigued. “So you kept him?” John was turning the wheel hard as he pulled onto the side road. “We couldn’t have kids so we kept our mouths shut and pretended he was ours.” “Folks around here never seemed to notice or ask questions so…” Now the truck was winding through the salvage yards walls of scrap metal until they had found the place where john had originally parked.

Walking in the direction of the pond and the boy’s campsite, Michael and john talked some more about where they had just come from. “You never did answer my question ya know.” Michael glanced over at John quizzically. “What did Tommy have against Mr. Mortimer? Was the man related to him?” Michael chuckled at the irony. “You could say that I guess.” But the two young men reached the fire and their family and friends so the conversation had to stop for a while. As John stepped into view without Tommy by his side, Katey’s heart sank with any hope attached to it. He joined his wife. Katey took her husband’s hand causing him to look down at his wife’s tear filled eyes and sat back down next to her. With a voice full of pain and sorrow Katey had to admit “there’s no sense trying to fight it… we took Tommy in and raised him the best we knew how, but we always knew that he wasn’t really ours. There was something in him that didn’t fit, didn’t sit right.” “Now I wonder if we ever really knew him at all.” John held her tight and tried to quiet her fears as well as his own. Katey’s chin quivered as she stated. “We don’t even know his real name.” 

Sherry sat on the other side of her friend holding her hand as John looked at Michael. “What exactly did Tommy tell you in order to get you to help him?” he wanted to know. Michael was scratching lines in the dirt with a stick he found while gathering firewood. Steve finished a soda and crushed the can before throwing it into the fire. “It wasn’t what he told us. He never really talked much to us. Michael was the only one he shared his secrets with.” John listened to Steve but was still trying to piece things together. Then a voice came from across the fire. “It was never about what he told me, it was about what we all saw him do.” Michael exclaimed. Steve then spoke up again. “Yeah, that’s what kept us all from tellin anyone his secret… we were all scared of him!” “None of us wanted to cross him, we never even talked about it.” Then Steve stopped talking, as if there was something he was holding back. “It’s ok Steve.” Said John “Go on.” Steve looked at Michael who was staring right at him with a look that warned him not to go any further. But the silence was broken by Tim. “You might as well just tell them already, we all know what you did.” Everyone was looking directly at Michael as his eyes roamed from person to person as though he was hiding something bad. “Trevor talked, he asked questions, he wasn’t afraid of Tommy or you.” Said Brian gravely. Michael stood up and glared at the boy. “Shut your mouth Brian!” Brian stood as well and held his ground, refusing to be silenced. No one had ever heard Brian talk with such conviction before, so fearlessly. “Go ahead, tell them. Tell them how you set the Keet’s family house on fire that Sunday morning before anyone woke up!” Michael’s mother looked horrified as did Katey and John. The words stung and Michael couldn’t deny or offer an explanation but he struck back at his accuser anyway! “He was as good as dead anyway! All of them were and you know it!” He just stood quietly glancing around the fire at his companions. Katey opened her mouth but had trouble making a sound. Finally she worked up enough nerve to ask “You didn’t set that fire? Did you?” But when he didn’t answer her mind went to the next logical conclusion and she just had to know. “Did Tommy know what you did to that boy and his family?” She hoped deep in her heart that her son was innocent but deep down she knew the answer already. “Tommy told me to silence Trevor, he was jeopardizing our plans. I did what had to be done.” Sherry couldn’t contain her emotions any further and burst into tears, crying uncontrollably. Her son was a murderer and he didn’t even show remorse. The conclusion, as far as john was concerned was obvious! “I’m going to call the Sheriff, this is way passed anything I’m able to handle.” Michael jumped up! “Wait! We can’t go, not yet!” John was in no mood to argue. “This isn’t up to you or any of us, the authorities have to be notified immediately!” John tried to walk away in the direction of his truck when Michael and Steven pulled out matching .45 caliber semi-automatic Browning pistols! “You don’t understand, no one’s going anywhere!” Michael shouted! Katey and sherry both let out fearful shrieks as John stopped and held up his hands. “Woe, easy, you don’t want to make things worse than they already are.” Michael motioned for Steve to join him and together they held their weapons on the three adults while Tim and Jackson bound their hands and feet with wire ties. “Now like I said, no one’s goin anywhere. We’re all gonna sit here until it’s time to leave.” Michael informed them. John had to ask “When will it be time to leave?” Michael looked up at the clear blue sky. “He said, until something happens… something bad.” Morning was turning into day as Steve and Jackson got more wood to stoke the coals while Tim started to prepare breakfast. John struggled to loosen his bindings. “What did you mean when you said that Trevor and his family were as good as dead anyway? What were you talking about?” Michael shoved the pistol into his waist band and stepped up to Brian. “Go ahead, tell him! Tell him about all of those people who are going to die!” Then Michael turned and sat down on a log next to the fire as it continued burning. “Not like it matters now anyway.” He said softly under his breath but audible enough for John to make out. John looked at Brian, waiting for clarification. Brian slumped down on his bedroll that he had stretched out on the ground and hugged his knees with his arms and rocked gently back and forth until… “Tommy said that everybody on the North end of the city would be killed when they tried to stop him.” Katey couldn’t understand anything the boys or her husband were talking about. “When who tries to stop him? What is Tommy gonna do?”

Chapter Nine: “Reckoning”

Sheriff Jenkins and his passengers drove up to the front of the sheriff’s station and parked. Parker and Carl both exited the cruiser and headed for the building while agent Carter remained in the front passenger seat flipping through the pages of Sheriff Troup’s notebook and a few pages from the reports he took from the office files. He continues to pour over the information for a few minutes, then he steps out of the car but leaves the door hanging open. “Sheriff, if you don’t mind I have something to show you.” He then nods to the other agent present who extends his hand as if to imply you first. Parker takes the back seat again and the three men leave town. Agent Carter is acting differently than he has before. “Mind telling me where we’re goin?” asks Carl. “Just turn left at the next exit and I’ll direct you from there.” Carter informs him. They drive for nearly twenty minutes getting farther and farther from town. “You’re acting kinda suspicious guys, can’t you fill me in?” Carl tried again. “Everything will be explained in due time, just keep driving.” Stated Parker. After some time had passed and the driver told to make several turns he was too turned around to remember where he was by this point. “Alright, c’mon you gotta give me something or I’m not going any farther.” Carl insisted. Carter smiled and then told Carl to pull over and park. He did and then sat waiting for an explanation. “Well, you wanted to know what’s been going on and I had to be sure that you could be trusted.” Said Carter as he opened his door. “C’mon Sheriff!” The three men exited the car and Carl followed his hosts. They were parked next to a large warehouse somewhere in an industrial park in the next county. Carter and Parker approached a solid steel door which had no knob, only a flat glass pad on it. Carter placed the palm of his hand on the pad and the door opened. Startled by the sight of a technology he hadn’t seen before, Carl stepped through the door with agent Parker right behind him. Once on the other side the door swung shut and made a loud clicking noise. The room was dimly lit until Parker flipped a switch on the wall and the interior of the building came into view. The place was enormous! There were helicopters and tanks, army jeeps and vehicles Carl couldn’t identify all over the place. Likewise there were armed troops at the ready and near the center of it all was a small room constructed of tarps. Carl’s mouth was hanging wide open as the agents led him through the compound. Eventually the made it to the tent that was being guarded by several armed soldiers. They stepped through the doorway. The room was looked to be about ten by fifteen feet and it was filled top to bottom with computers and people trained to use them. A center console sat directly in front of him and a large flat screen covered in digital read-outs. None of it looked familiar to him but the technicians were moving around in a hurry and it didn’t take a genius to know when something was happening.

“As you can see the government has been monitoring this area for a while now, long before we ever showed up on your doorstep.” Carter admitted. “The FBI has been working together with several other agencies, gathering intel and planning strategies in case things take a bad turn.” Carl was speechless at first trying to take it all in. “So you’ve been watching my town?” asked Carl. “We’ve been monitoring satellite feeds and initiating surveillance on the area surrounding the quarry as well as hidden cameras all over town for two months now, ever since the quakes started back up.” Explained Parker. Sheriff Jenkins began pacing and then stopped! “So you’ve known what happened to Sheriff Troup and Mr. Mortimer and that woman in the park, everything, all of this time?” Carter stood in front of the man and spoke softly in order to deescalate the situation. “We didn’t know everything, but yes we do know more than we let on, we had to keep it under wraps for a while, national security is priority one.” On one hand Carl understood the need for discretion but he was irritated on not being let in on it all sooner. “So what was it? What happened to Bob and the other two? Were they all random or related in some way?” Carl asked urgently. Parker handed Carl a folder. The man opened it and asked “So what am I looking at?” Carter took over the debriefing. “Remember the two names written in your predecessor’s notebook? Michael and Tommy, the two boys were being watched closely by the Sheriff when they retaliated and he was injured.” “Our video team did everything they could but there is no definitive answer to what they did to him, but it’s obvious they were to blame.” Carl couldn’t believe his ears. “Michael Donovan has been in trouble but Tommy, he’s just a kid, a friend.” Carter hated to have to tell the man that he had been duped but he chose to lay it all on the line. “I’m not going to sugar coat it, you wanted to know everything so here it is. The boy you call Tommy is not the little kid he appears to be!” “Look over here! The man points to the video screen and asks the tech to pull up the playback from the park. In seconds a blurry picture shows Tommy and a woman seeming to talk just before the unspeakable happens! “Oh my… he killed her, just killed her!” Carl lamented. “Yes, and then he walked away like nothing had happened.” Parker stated. “Unfortunately we had no way of knowing that he would strike at Mortimer’s so there isn’t any footage of that incident. But traffic cam pics clearly show that Tommy was in the vicinity at the time of that crime as well. They happened within an hour or so of each other.” Carter proposed. “He hasn’t been alone the whole time either, besides Michael there are a few other local boys minus one Trevor Keets who died in a suspicious fire with his entire family.” Carl remembered speaking at the funeral for his friends Drew and Tracy and their two kids. “You mean it was done on purpose? Arson?!” Carter didn’t say a word he just nodded. “What is it about the quarry? How is all of this connected and why?” Agent Carter punched a few buttons on the keyboard next to him and multi-colored pictures flashed up on the screen. “This yellow area is the layout of your town’s borders, the green off to the north is the quarry and this…” He pressed a few more buttons and a group of concentric circles appeared over top of the other pictures. “This is a radiation signature that the satellites picked up emanating from the center of the quarry. The quakes have been originating from that exact location all of this time.” Carl looked back at Carter. “What does any of this have to do with Tommy?” he wanted to know. Agent Parker pointed to the screen again, this time to a red dot. “That’s the boy there.” The red dot was in the very center of the circles coming from the middle of the quarry. “The eggheads aren’t sure but the fear is that there’s nuclear radiation emanating from that spot and if it is, we need to be prepared to intervene.” All of this was too much for Carl to digest. He needed time to figure this all out and asked for some coffee. He sat holding the cup of hot liquid but didn’t take a sip of it. He simply stared at the screen. “What’s this over here?” he wanted to know. Agent Carter looked at the screen where Carl was pointing. A small patch of red near the top of the screen sat not far from the quarry. “That’s the same nuclear radiation that’s coming from Tommy’s location. That’s where a family cemetery sits… that’s where the Mortimer family, who all died in nineteen thirty two are all buried.”

Carl didn’t know what to make of that strange information and decided to tuck it away for later. “So what’s the plan?” Parker sat opposite Carl. “We’ve been instructed to let the boy go to the quarry in order to keep him away from the populated areas and then go in.” Carl didn’t understand. “Go in? And do what?” Carter knew it wouldn’t be easy for the sheriff to hear it but he said what needed to be said. “We’re going to blow the quarry.” Silence followed. Then Carter pointed to the screen again and an amalgam of white blotches that encircles the quarry were moving and closing in rapidly. Carl knew instantly what came next and rushed for the stairs as Carter yelled for him to stop but he knew that the man couldn’t help but try to stop it all. 

A dozen miles from the government building, Tommy climbs down deep within the bowels of the quarry among the crystals lining the walls and ceiling. Only now in the center of the huge open cave stood a monolith of pure light. Like a door it stood exactly eight feet from the ground to the top, four feet wide and one foot thick. It was smooth with sharp corners and sleek edges just as it had nearly a hundred years earlier. The pylon stood freely without any supports and glowed intensely white. Outside among the jeeps and humvee’s a lone patrol car glides up to the opening in the quarry fence and skids to a stop! Soldiers warn the man to stay back but he ignores their pleas and runs for the large opening in the rock-face! Tommy reached out for the surface facing him and it was cold to the touch. Images flashed through his mind all at once, present, past and future all at once. He was fully aware of the soldiers closing in on him but he felt no fear or anxiety. He was finally going home. As a battalion of heavily armed and specially trained troops that had made their way through the fence and came to the mouth of the entrance just after the sheriff, Carl slides down the steep grade and lands on his back among the rubble. When he looks up his eyes are blinded by a harsh bright light. His eyes adjust and then he sees the boy as he calls out! “Tommy!” The boy looks at the man and then leans forward and places both hands on the pylon! The earth begins shaking and the men cease to advance. The quake became more intense as the moments raged on until the boy far below stepped up to the monolith and like a gateway steps within! Instantly the crystals giving light all around cracked and shattered and the energy released erupted into a violent storm of light and concussive power! Like a dam bursting the eruption of unbridled power filled the room and then shot forth through the caves and exited the breech in the quarry floor until the power and furry engulfed a circular area about a mile in diameter, turning into a vast red mushroom cloud that shot straight into the air close to ten thousand feet! The heat given off instantly incinerated Sheriff Carl Jeffries, the soldiers, the military equipment and anything else that was above ground and then shot forth and extended outward in every direction for almost five miles tearing a swath across two counties and laying waste to anything standing in its way! The blast could be registered on seismic equipment all across North America! Within minutes the blast had begun to lose momentum and the last remnant of its destructive force dissipated into a dazzling display of light followed by a fiery whirlwind that pushed on over ten miles. Not a single sign was visible of the town. The agents safely tucked away in a bunker beneath the warehouse watched as the screen went white and then faded, leaving a burned out crater surrounded by nothing. Agent Carter says in solemn regret. “We were too late.” 

The time was ten O’clock in the morning, Saturday October twenty eight near Porter’s Salvage Yard. Three adults and four teenage boys sit waiting for a sign when the sky to the North flashes up like the sun and then slowly dies down. Like a small nuclear explosion it fades but then is followed minutes later by a hot stiff wind that topples the camp and scatters everything. It is accompanied by a spectacular light show across the horizon. Michael looks sad as he notices that the creek that usually feeds the body of water slows and then ceases. The small pond begins to drain and get shallower as the minutes tick by until it is completely empty and only the mud from the bottom is left exposed to bake in the sun. 

Months have passed since the incident at Mortimer’s quarry took place and destroyed three counties and thousands of lives. The military has done its best to suppress the information as to what really happened. Touted as a tragic granary explosion no one outside the state ever even questioned the headlines in the newspapers. John Rensel sits on the steps of the local hospital waiting for his wife. Eventually she emerges through the sliding doors with a larger than usual grin on her face. “You look like your gonna burst! What’d the doctor say, are you ok?” Katey can’t hold her excitement in any longer! “I’m pregnant!” John can’t believe his ears and rises slowly and then throws his arms around the woman he loves! “How, how is it possible? I thought we couldn’t…” Katey is beaming! “I have no idea!” She says laughing out loud! “You know what this means don’t you?” asks John. “We finally get to use your father and grandfather’s name. We’ll call him Elijah.”

Chapter Ten: A perfect circle

The year is somewhere near 3010 at best estimate. A man wearing a yellow jumpsuit and face mask scouts the desolate and barren plains for anything that might be useful. He turns over rocks and kicks the dirt looking for any signs of lower life forms like worms or grubs but comes up empty. Disappointed he turns and walks back the way he came, passing a large divot in the earth which used to hold thousands of gallons of water at one time, years ago but had long ago become one of the many dried out crevices in the earth. He stops to take the site in with an almost nostalgic reverence. He remembers how when he was a small boy his father told him about how this place served him and his mother as a refuge from the devastation that had decimated the surrounding area. A few more minutes and then he turns back toward home. Along the way he passes long burned out buildings and a shopping center with no roof with its rusty steel framework collapsing slowly over time. In the distance the ruins of what once was filled with people. Within the young trees that had begun growing shortly after the cataclysm a large steel door becomes visible deep set into the hillside. The man makes it to a single level, concrete bunker that he calls home and presses a large red button on a metal panel which causes a heavy steel door to open through which he enters. Once inside he presses another red button again which activates a red strobe light to signal as the door closes behind him. “Hey, you’re back, anything good out there?” a voice calls out over a small speaker in the decontamination chamber. “Nah, nothing today, maybe tomorrow.” The man responds jovially. “Well mom will be glad your back and Trish has a surprise for ya, so you better de-con and get inside.” The voice of the man’s son Craig suggests. The man in the chamber disrobes after hitting the decontamination shower controls and enters the inner chamber where a clean pair of pants and sweatshirt wait for him. He dresses quickly in anticipation of this new surprise and opens the inner most hatch. He’s greeted by his daughter in law who leads him into the living room where the rest of the family waits eagerly. “Wo, what’s this all about?” He asks. Trish sits down next to her father in law and begins. “Everyone knows how the radiation has sterilized just about everyone and there have been less and less babies being born. We’re in danger of dying out.” She continued “You told me the story about how your parents weren’t able to have children until the great blast and that something caused your mothers infertility to reverse and were miraculously conceived and born?” The man smiled at the girl as she wells up with excitement. “Well, something wonderful has happened, I’m pregnant!” The man throws his arms around Trish and soon the whole family is embracing and celebrating! After some time has passed and everyone sits down to dinner the proud to be grandfather pulls something from the pocket on his upper thigh and sets it onto the table. “I found this while digging today, it’s some kind of crystal. Think it might make a nice gift for my new… he hesitates a second then asks “So is it? A boy or a girl?” The ecstatic mother to-be speaks to everyone present. “Its twins! A girl… and a boy!” Again the room erupts in jubilation! The grandmother to-be asks. “Have you picked out names yet?” The proud father squeezes his beaming wife’s hand and answers. “We’ve decided to name the little girl Kristy. And the little boy…” He hesitates for affect. “We’ve decided to use an old family name and name him after you dad… Elijah.”


End file.
